The Wayward Daughter
by elliotteareed
Summary: When John Winchester finds a baby girl at the side of the road, the life of the Winchesters will change forever. What if it wasn't just Sam and Dean saving people and hunting things? Meet Ella- honorary Winchester, bad-ass hunter, and the girl who will either save them all or destroy everything she touches.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note :)**

 **So the current title is just a working one (I suck at titles), and it will change in the future.**

 **I do not own any of the characters except for Ella, and as some of Sam and Dean's dialogue is directly from the script, I do not own that either. All of that comes from the wonderful minds of the Supernatural creators. If you like this story, let me know- I'm always looking for feedback. Enjoy! :)**

 **Chapter 1- The Abandoned Daughter**

I never knew my real parents.

John Winchester used to tell me that he found me as a baby on the side of the road after a long, hard day of hunting. I was wrapped up in a faded blanket, and I wasn't moving- he thought I was dead at first. But when he picked me up, I opened my eyes and blinked at him sleepily, yawning. He told me later that when my eyes first opened, he almost dropped me- it was like he was looking into his oldest son's eyes. He knew then that he couldn't leave me there.

He brought me back to the run-down hotel where he had been staying, and showed me to his sons Sam and Dean. Sam was only four at the time and didn't know what was happening, but Dean had just turned 8, and at first, he didn't want me. He thought keeping me would be too dangerous, that I would get them all killed. But later that night, when I was whimpering in my makeshift bed and John was dead asleep, Dean was the one who picked me up and comforted me. And when he looked into my eyes, he saw himself.

So I became a Winchester, and grew up in the life. John taught me how to shoot my first gun, and Sam always made sure I carried salt with me. And on the nights when I couldn't sleep, Dean would sing 'Hey Jude' to me, because that's what his mother used to sing to him. We were a family.

But things weren't always great. John was gone a lot, leaving me with Sam and Dean in the motel-of-the-week. And on the nights he did come home, he was often too tired to tell us about his day, and fell asleep on the couch within 10 minutes. When Dean turned 13, he started going on hunts with John, leaving 9-year-old Sam alone with 5-year-old me. We spent most of our time together- Sam taught me how to read, and I taught him my best dance moves (which mainly consisted of lots of jumping around). Sometimes John would refuse to take Dean with him on hunts, so he left him in charge of the two of us. Dean would sulk for a day or two, but once he got over it, we ended up having a lot of fun. He taught me how to play blackjack, using shotgun shells filled with rock salt in place of betting money. That only lasted a month before I got better than him, and he refused to play with me.

We lived like this for years- bouncing from school to school, sleeping in the Impala (and in real beds when we could), and hunting down all the evil things in the world. I got pretty good with a shotgun, and since I was the smallest of the four, I was the best at sneaking around. Sam and Dean learned this the hard way during a trip to Texas when I got bored and decided to short-sheet their beds and hide all their socks in various nooks and crannies of the Impala. I got used to late night drives and staying up reading until I fell asleep on Sam, and singing along to AC/DC at the top of my lungs with Dean. It wasn't a perfect life, but I loved it all the same.

But when I was 14, all of that changed. Sam went off to Stanford and left me with Dean and John. I spent most of my time with Dean- John was often in a bad mood, and we learned to tiptoe around him. On the nights where he would be especially moody, Dean and I would sneak out in the middle of the night. We usually ended up in the nearest bar- there aren't really a lot of places open at 1 in the morning. Dean was the one who gave me my first drink and got me my first fake ID, but I could usually get in without one. By the time I turned 18, I was no longer the skinny little girl who could beat anyone in blackjack and take down someone a head taller than me. I was still slim and athletic, but also pretty curvy- combine that with my long black curly hair and tall frame, and with a little red lipstick and heels, I could easily pass for 21. Dean worried about me being attacked or drugged, but after some random asshole tried to grope me and got knocked out with a single punch, he decided I could take care of myself.

And then John went missing. He had gone on a hunting trip that was only supposed to last a few days, but a week later, we hadn't heard from him, and he wasn't answering his phone. I told Dean it was nothing to worry about- he was probably on a bender somewhere- but Dean insisted that we had to go find him. So we went to go get Sam from Stanford- we needed all the help we could get.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N-**

 **I'm sorry this is so long- I had a little too much fun writing this. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it! :)**

When we arrived at Stanford, it was late at night, and although you could hear the thumping of party music in the distance, the campus seemed empty. Dean pulled up outside of where Sam lived and shut the engine off before turning to face me.

"You ready, Ell?"

I nodded, and pulled my hair up into a quick ponytail to calm my shaking hands.

"Yeah, I guess. Do you think he'll be happy to see us?"

"Dude, we're breaking into his house in the middle of the night. What do you think?" Dean responded, shaking his head.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I'm just worried- I haven't seen him in two years. What if he hates me?"

"Ella, why would he hate you?"

"I don't know, Dean. I'm nervous, and when I get nervous I start to think of the worst-case scenario and then I can't stop thinking about it and-"

"Okay, you need to relax. Take a deep breath, will ya?" Dean said, reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder.

I took a long, slow deep breath, and relaxed a little bit, and Dean nodded at me.

"Hey, it's going to be fine. Now let's go get our Sammy."

We crept up to Sam's door, and I knelt down to pick the lock. It took me a little longer than usual- I dropped the tools a few times because my hands were shaking so badly, but after a few minutes I heard the lock click. Dean slowly turned the doorknob and held out his arm, motioning for me to let him go in first. We snuck into the entryway and closed the door quietly behind us, looking around the room. There were a large pair of shoes by the door with a pair of high heels haphazardly thrown beside them, and Dean turned to look at me with one raised eyebrow.

"Looks like Sammy's got a guest, huh?" He whispered, smirking.

"Dean, focus! Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Do you see how damn big those shoes are?"

"True," I responded, shrugging.

We made our way to what seemed to be the kitchen, and I attempted to hop up on the counter and make myself comfortable without making much noise. Unfortunately, I wasn't very successful- my hip sent a glass crashing to the floor. Dean spun around to glare at me before bringing his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. I smiled sheepishly, and inched myself closer to the wall. We heard the quiet thump of footsteps approaching us, and Dean looked at me with a smirk on his face before creeping forward.

Sam slowly entered the kitchen, walking right past me. Noticing Dean trying to be still across the kitchen, he leapt at him, and they started fighting. I rolled my eyes and watched them try to take each other out, before Dean pinned Sam down.

"Whoa, easy tiger!" Dean said, smirking.

Sam was panting on the floor underneath him, and he looked up in shock at his brother's face.

"Dean?"

Dean laughed quietly.

"You scared the crap out of me!" Sam said, still trying to catch his breath.

"That's cause you're out of practice," Dean replied, still grinning smugly.

Sam somehow managed to quickly flip them over so he was on top of Dean, and I tried my hardest not to laugh.

"Or not," Dean said, smiling up at his brother.

Dean tapped his shoulder and told him to get off, and Sam obliged, helping him up. I gave up on holding in my laughter, and slid off the counter. Sam looked at me in shock and was about to tackle me before Dean pulled him back.

"Jeez, Sam, it's just Ella!" Dean said, struggling to hold him back.

Sam froze and squinted at me.

"Ella? What the hell?" Sam said, wiggling out of Dean's grasp.

"Hey, Sammy," I smiled, walking towards him.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Sam asked.

"Well, I was looking for a beer," Dean responded, grabbing Sam's shoulders and smacking him before dropping his arms.

"What... the hell... are you doing here?" Sam asked slowly.

"Okay, alright. We gotta talk."

"Uh, the phone?" Sam responded, an edge of sarcasm in his voice.

"If I'd have called, would you have picked up?"

The light turned on, startling us all. Both boys spun to face the light switch, and Dean instantly pulled me behind him.

"Sam?"

A pretty blond girl stood at the doorway in a Smurfs shirt and some pajama shorts, looking at us in confusion.

"Jess. Hey..." Sam said, looking at her before turning to Dean and me.

"Dean, Ella, this is my girlfriend Jessica."

She walked closer to us, still looking puzzled, and Dean pulled me closer to him.

I smacked him and slipped out from behind him.

"Dean, I can take care of myself," I said, crossing my arms and giving him the death glare.

He raised his hands in surrender, and stepped away from me.

"Wait, your brother Dean?" Jessica asked, a smile creeping across her face.

"I love the Smurfs," Dean said, smiling at her and earning a smack from me.

"You know, I gotta tell you- _you..._ are completely out of my brother's league."

I rolled my eyes and prepared to smack him again, but he slid out of reach.

Sighing, I crossed my arms, and waited for her response.

"Let me put something on," she said, as she turned to leave.

"No no, no- I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously," Dean said, smirking.

"Dean, you're being gross- cut it out," I told him, rolling my eyes yet again.

Jess turned to me with a grateful smile on her face that quickly turned into confusion.

"And you're Ella?" She asked.

"Yeah, that's me," I answered, smiling shyly at her.

Jess turned to Sam, who did not look pleased with the turn in the conversation.

"Sam, is she..."

"Yeah. She's the girl who Dad raised as his own," Sam answered, running a hand through his overly long hair.

After an awkward pause, Dean, who had somehow managed to remain silent, turned back to Jess.

"Anyway, I've gotta borrow your boyfriend here to talk about some family business, but, uh... Nice meeting you," Dean grinned, stepping closer to me and Sam.

Sam looked at him before turning to Jess.

"No."

He walked over to Jess and slid his long arm around her waist.

"No. Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her," Sam said, looking Dean directly in the eyes and avoiding my gaze.

"Okay," Dean said, stepping closer to the couple. I hung back- I didn't want to get any closer than I had to.

"Um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam sighed.

"So he's working overtime on another time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean nodded before repeating himself.

"Dad's on a _hunting_ trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam's face slowly turned grim, and he paused before telling Jess that we needed a moment.

She nodded, and Sam showed us to the door. He closed it behind him and turned to us, motioning us down the stairs.

"I mean, come on, you can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said as we walked down the stairs.

"You know, I hear me, Sammy. Dad's _missing._ We need you to help us find him."

"Remember the poltergeist in Amherst?" Sam responded. "Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then to. He's _always_ missing, and he's _always_ fine."

Dean and I turned to him.

"Sam..." I said, brushing my too-long bangs away from my face.

"Not for this long," Dean responded. "Are you gonna come with us or not?"

Sam sighed, before shaking his head.

"I'm not."

"Why not?" Dean asked, crossing his arms.

"Sammy, come on, we need your help," I pleaded, looking at him.

He glanced at me quickly before he sighed and turned back to Dean.

"I swore I was done hunting. For _good."_

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't _that_ bad," Dean scoffed, before turning around and starting down the stairs again.

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45," Sam responded as we reached the door.

"Sam, he was doing the best he knew how to do," I said. "He did the same for me."

"Ella, you were 8. He wouldn't even let you use the stove without supervision," Sam sighed, turning to face me.

"Okay, how the hell was I supposed to know that when you spill Jello powder on a hot stove it bursts into flames?"

"She's got a point, Sammy," Dean said, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Sam smiled slightly before becoming serious again. "But Dean, I was nine years old! He was supposed to say 'don't be afraid of the dark'."

Dean scoffed.

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her..."

Dean glanced outside, a hard look on his face.

"And Dad didn't have to bring Ella into it too- she was just a kid, Dean," Sam said sadly.

"I would take this life over dying on the side of the road any day, Sam. Your dad saved my life," I hissed, standing up a little straighter. "So he wasn't the best father. But he took me in when anybody else would have left me there to die."

Sam sheepishly looked down at his feet, and Dean wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"I know, kid. I know," Dean assured me, before opening the door.

We stepped through the door and into the night, and headed over to the Impala. Sam trailed behind, but followed us regardless.

"But Dean, do you really think this is what Mom wanted for us?" Sam asked, easily catching up to us.

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Dean, we were raised like warriors."

Dean looked at him harshly before spitting "So you're just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?"

"Dean..." I always hated it when they fought.

"No. Not normal- Safe."

"And that's why you ran away," Dean said, looking off into the distance.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing," Sam responded shortly.

"Sammy, he didn't mean it," I said softly, trying to break up the fight.

Sam looked at me sadly before turning away.

"We can't do this alone," Dean said, and Sam turned back to him, eyes shining with tears.

"Yes, you can," Sam responded, and turned to walk away. I reached out to touch his arm, and he froze.

"Please, Sammy? We need you," I pleaded.

He sighed and looked down, and after a short pause, he looked back up at us with a determined look on his face.

"What was he hunting?"

Dean popped the trunk and started digging around.

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked as he watched Dean pick up a case of bullets, shrug, and toss it back in.

"Well, I was working my own gig, and Ella came with me."

Sam looked at Dean, obviously stunned.

"You brought her on a hunt? What the hell, Dean?"

"Dude, have you seen her shoot?" Dean grinned at me goofily, and I reached over to mess up his hair.

Dean finally found what he was looking for, and started to update Sam on the case. I had heard this spiel too many times over the past week, so I settled into the backseat of the Impala, kicking my boots off and grabbing a book from the floor. Sam ran in to pack a bag, and Dean climbed into the driver's seat, turning to look at me.

"You okay, kid?"

I nodded slightly before returning to my book. Sam opened the door and climbed in, and we pulled away and started our long drive.

I woke up the next morning to the Allman Brothers blasting through the car speakers , and a bottle of soda and a bag of chips unceremoniously dumped into my lap. I opened my eyes slowly and found Dean grinning at me.

"Morning, sunshine! Brought you breakfast!"

I yawned and sat up, stretching my arms over my head.

"Jesus, Dean- it's like 8 am. How are you so freaking perky?"

Dean laughed, and reached out to close his car door. Sam had been searching through Dean's box of music, and finding nothing satisfactory, decided to poke a little fun at Dean. Rolling my eyes, I opened my bag of chips and drank my soda, wincing when Dean turned the music up and peeled away from the gas station.

After a while, we pulled up to the bridge leading into town to find two police cars and several officers. Dean pulled the car off to the side and popped open the glove compartment to grab the ID box. He dug through until he found the badges he wanted, tossed me one, and turned to grin at Sam. We got out of the car and started walking towards the bridge. Dean reached the lead Deputy first, and Sam and I hung back slightly.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean asked, causing the deputy to straighten up and look at him.

"And who are you?"

Dean and I showed him our badges, and after giving me a suspicious look, he turned back to Dean.

"Aren't you three a little young for Marshals?"

Dean laughed slightly and thanked him before he and Sam walked over to the car. I walked over to the edge of the bridge and looked down at the murky water below, catching the eye of one of the officers searching the water. I quickly looked back to Sam and Dean and saw that they were walking to the car, so I hurried to catch up.

They told me what they had heard, and we got into the car and drove away.

When we arrived at the town, Dean announced that he was hungry, so we drove around looking for food. We found a place to park and got out of the car, Dean unsurprisingly leading the way. As we walked, I noticed a girl putting up posters of the missing guy's face, and I turned and elbowed Dean in the side.

"Hey, check that out."

Dean turned to look, and then nodded at me.

"Yeah, one of the officers was talking about the girlfriend of the missing guy- I'll bet you that's her," He said, and started towards her.

Before he could get very far, I reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back towards Sam and I.

"Who do you think she'll be more likely to talk to- two random guys or me?" I asked, and Dean sighed, nodding in agreement. I smirked at the two boys and walked up to the girl, tapping her on the shoulder. She spun around and looked like she was about to hit me, but once she saw that I wasn't a threat, she relaxed.

"Hey, you're Amy, right?"

She nodded quickly.

"I heard about Troy- I'm really sorry.."

"I'm sorry, who are you?" she asked, looking suspicious.

"Oh, we go to the same school. I've seen you around, but we don't have any classes together. Troy and I used to be really good friends- he talked about you a lot."

She seemed to believe me, and noticing that her guard was now down, I asked her if she had heard from him before he went missing. She told me that she last talked to him when he was driving home, and that he had promised to call her back, but never did. She told me about a local legend- a woman had been murdered on Centennial highway a while ago, and that her spirit was still out there. I thanked her and walked back to Sam and Dean.

"Okay, how about we go to the library and check this out?"

A couple hours later, we had found everything we needed, so we headed back to the bridge. An article that Sam had found had said that a woman named Constance Welch had committed suicide there back in 1981 after her two children drowned in the bathtub. We walked about halfway along the bridge, then stopped to look over the railing. Dean looked over at Sam and opened his mouth to speak.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive."

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam said, looking over at Dean.

Dean nodded, and continued walking. I stayed at the railing, gazing off across the water. I could hear Sam and Dean arguing in the distance, but I didn't want to get involved- it was obviously between the two of them. But then I heard a noise close to me, and looked up to see a woman in a long white dress standing on the railing. I reached into my pocket for the salt I always carried with me and called out to Sam and Dean.

"Hey guys? You might want to take a look at this."

She turned to look at me with dark, sad eyes before stepping over the side of the bridge, falling to the water below. Sam and Dean ran over to the railing, but by the time they got to me, she had vanished into the water below. Then we heard a noise from behind us- a car's engine. We all turned to look, and saw that the Impala's lights were on and the engine was running.

"Uh, Dean? Who's driving your car?" I asked, starting to back away. Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket and slowly jingled them, and the car jerked into motion with a deep growl. We turned and started running as fast as we could, but we weren't fast enough. The wind whipped my hair into my face and I could barely see, but I grabbed the railing next to me and hurriedly climbed on top of it in time to see the boys throw themselves over the side of the bridge.

Sam managed to catch himself on the edge of the bridge, but Dean wasn't as lucky. He had fallen into the water, and as he stumbled towards us, I saw that he was covered in mud. I tried to hold back my laughter but failed, and Sam quickly joined me. Dean pretended to shake his head at us in annoyance, but quickly broke down as well. After we had finally stopped laughing, we got into the car and drove away in search of the nearest hotel.

We finally found one after driving all night, and went into the lobby to check in. The clerk gave Dean a very strange look, and I thought it was because he was covered in mud, but I was wrong.

"You guys having a reunion or something?" The clerk asked, looking at the credit card Dean had given him.

"What do you mean?" Sam looked at the clerk in confusion.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

"Yeah, something like that. Can you possibly tell us which room he's in? We haven't seen him in a while- we've got a lot of catching up to do," I said, moving closer to the counter and looking the clerk in the eyes.

"W-well, I'm really not supposed to…"

Dean rolled his eyes and reached for his wallet, pulling out a 20 before slapping it on the counter in front of the man. "But I think I can make an exception just this once."

Once Sam had picked the lock on the door, we quickly entered the room, locking the door behind us. Sam and Dean immediately started looking around the room, and I knelt down on the floor next to a large ring of salt.

"Hey, guys? Salt and cats-eye shells. He was trying to keep something from coming in," I told them, before standing up and brushing stray grains of salt away from my knees.

Dean looked at me with concern before turning back to the walls, which were covered in newspaper articles, pictures and post-it-notes, and I got up to join him.

"What have you got here?" Sam asked.

"Centennial Highway Victims," Dean answered, leaning towards the pictures on the wall to get a closer look.

"Guys, I don't get it. These men have nothing in common- different jobs, ages, ethnicities…. Is there something we don't know?" I asked, and Sam crossed the room to look at another wall. He turned on the lamp and stopped in his tracks once he saw what was on the wall.

"Dad figured it out."

Dean turned to look at him, obviously confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked, walking over to the wall. I followed him, and saw what Sam was talking about.

"Constance Welch. She's a woman in white," I told Dean, reaching out to tap an article on the wall.

"You sly dogs," Dean said, and opened his mouth to say more, but was quickly silenced by a well-placed kick in the calf. He turned to look at me in annoyance, but kept quiet once he noticed the death glare aimed at him. He turned back to Sam, who was still looking at the picture of the woman.

"All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it"

"She might have another weakness," Sam interjected, turning to look at me and Dean.

"Well, Dad would want to make sure- he'd dig her up," Dean said, looking back at me. "Does it say where she's buried?" I asked, and Sam shook his head, turning away.

" No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."

"All right. Why don't you see if you can find an address- I'm gonna get cleaned up," Dean said, starting to walk away. I moved to sit on the bed, making myself comfortable. Judging by the way he looked, that would take a while. But before he got to the bathroom, Sam turned to look at him.

"Hey, Dean?"

Dean stopped, and turned back towards his brother.

"What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad… I'm sorry."

I turned to look at him, confused, and was about to ask him what he meant, but Dean held up his hand before I could say anything.

"No chick-flick moments."

Sam laughed and nodded.

"All right. Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Dicks," I said, and they both turned to look at me. They both laughed, but Sam's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and he turned away quickly. Dean disappeared into the bathroom, and Sam crossed over to the mirror, his back still to me.

"H-hey, Sam?" I stammered, and he stopped walking.

"Yeah?"

"I really missed you, you know."

Sam turned to look at me with tears in his eyes, and slowly walked over to the side of the bed before sitting down next to me. He slung his arm over my shoulders and pulled me close to his side, and I leaned my head into his large shoulder.

"I missed you too, El."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter- this one was a lot of fun to write, and I hope it's also a lot of fun to read. A quick thank you to Dramione Winchester-Halliwell and Saphirabrightscale for your reviews, favorites, and follows- I'm always looking for feedback, and I hope you continue to like the story! :)**

I woke up the next morning to Dean hovering two inches from my face. This was not the first time he had done this, so I opened my eyes slowly, blinked once, and proceeded to punch him in the stomach. He groaned and fell over next to me, and I sat up and laughed.

"Every time, Dean! You fall for it every time!"

"Ah, shut up," Dean grumbled as he got off the bed, rubbing his stomach.

Sam shot us an annoyed look from the couch, where he was listening to his voicemail. That look didn't last long though- it's awfully hard to look annoyed when you're being violently tickled. After a few minutes of that, I gave up, and turned to Dean.

"Hey, I'm starving. You?"

"Yeah, me too. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street- you want anything?" Dean asked, putting his jacket on.

"French fries please!" I yelled, making my way to the bathroom.

"Who the hell eats French Fries for breakfast?" I heard him mutter to Sam as I closed the door.

"Ella, apparently," Sam responded, trying to listen to his voicemail again.

"You want anything, Sammy?"

"No," he answered, only half-paying attention.

"AND DON'T FORGET THE RANCH!" I yelled at Dean just before the door swung shut.

I threw on a black tank top, ripped skinny jeans, and my favorite red flannel, and attempted to tame my crazy-curly hair before giving up and throwing on my favorite black beanie. I adjusted my small silver septum ring and put on a little mascara before I opened the door and flopped down on the bed. Sam looked up and did a double take.

"What? Is there something in my hair?" I asked, frantically patting at the long dark curls.

"No… You just look different, that's all," Sam said, putting his phone down on the couch next to him.

"Well yeah, the last time you saw me I was 14, Sammy. Things change," I responded, pulling on socks and my favorite black work boots.

"Yeah, I guess they do," Sam said, smiling slightly.

Then his phone started ringing, and he grabbed for it, knocking it off the couch. He scrambled onto his hands and knees to grab it and found it, holding it up triumphantly. But when he looked at the screen, his face fell slightly, and he rolled his eyes before answering.

"What?"

He stood up quickly and held up five fingers in my direction, and I quietly started gathering my stuff.

"What about you?" Sam asked as I handed him his bag, and he started shoving stuff in.

Dean must have hung up on the other end, because Sam threw his phone in the bag and peeked out the window before darting back behind the curtain.

"Come on, let's go," Sam said, throwing our stuff out of the bathroom window before helping me climb out. He followed me soon after, and we ran towards the Impala and got in.

Later that night, as we were driving along the nearest highway after stopping to see Joseph Welch, my phone rang. I pulled it out and saw that it was a number that I didn't have saved in my phone, and held up the phone so Sam could see before answering.

"Fake 911 call, El? Nice one," Dean said through the phone.

"You're welcome," I smirked, and Sam snorted from the driver's seat.

"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean said, and I frowned.

"Yeah, you think? So apparently Constance's husband was unfaithful- we're definitely dealing with a woman in white. Apparently she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been John's next stop."

Sam motioned for me to hand him the phone.

"Yeah, but we can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam said, keeping his eyes on the road.

After a short pause, Sam's eyes widened, and when I poked him to ask what was happening, he put the phone on speaker.

"Dean, what's going on?" I asked, thinking something had happened.

"He's gone. Dad left Jericho," Dean responded, sounding extremely frustrated.

"How do you know?" Sam asked urgently, trying to stay calm.

"I've got his journal."

Sam and I both froze and stared at each other in shock before I managed to stutter out a response.

"B-but he doesn't go anywhere without it!"

Dean sighed heavily on the other end, and I could hear him scratching at the wall of the phone booth.

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?" Sam asked, and we both leaned forward to hear his response.

"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where we're going."

"Coordinates," I said, leaning back in my seat. "Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet."

Sam sighed and pushed his hair out of his face before he spoke again.

" I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out on the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?"

Suddenly, Sam looked up and slammed on the brakes, scaring the crap out of me. I looked up as well and pushed my hair out of my face to see Constance staring at us from the road. The car went right through her as it finally stopped, and we both sat completely still, breathing hard.

"Sam? Ella?" came Dean's voice from the cupholder, where Sam had dropped the phone.

I looked in the rearview mirror and almost screamed- Constance was now sitting in the backseat, staring at us with dark, cold eyes.

"Take me home!" Constance yelled, startling me, but Sam just stared back at her with a hard look in his eyes.

"No."

I turned to Sam in shock, but he didn't move. I looked back in the rearview mirror, and saw that Constance was now glaring directly at us. Then we heard a loud click, and saw that the doors had automatically locked. Then the car shot forward, and Sam grabbed the wheel and tried to steer, but couldn't- Constance had taken complete control of the car.

"GUYS!" Dean yelled from the phone, making me jump.

"Dean, we're fine, but we have a problem. It's Constance- she's taken control of the car."

I pulled the phone away from my ear as Dean let out a long stream of curse words that only he could have strung together, waited a minute for the swearing to stop, then put the phone back to my ear.

"You done?" I said, sighing.

"NO!" Dean yelled, but managing to stop himself from letting out another colorful stream of words.

"Dean, she's taking us to her house. You better get there fast- she is NOT happy" I said, glancing into the rearview mirror at a very unhappy Constance.

Dean hung up, and we drove for a few minutes before pulling up to an old, abandoned house. The car stopped, and the lights and engine shut off.

"Don't do this," Sam pleaded, looking back at her through the mirror.

"I can never go home", she said in a small, gazing longingly into Sam's eyes. I almost felt sorry for her…. But that didn't last long.

"You're scared to go home," Sam said, understanding dawning on his face. He looked up at the mirror and saw that she had disappeared, and turned around to look into the backseat. But as soon as he turned back, she climbed onto his lap, shoving him back against the seat so hard that the chair reclined. I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and tried to get out of the car, but the doors were still locked.

"Hold me. I'm so cold," she pleaded, stroking Sam's face with her ghostly hand. He continued to struggle.

"You can't kill me," he spat, glaring at her with hatred in his eyes. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!"

She smirked and leaned in closer until their noses almost touched, and Sam's eyes grew wide.

"You will be."

She leaned close and kissed Sam, pushing him down into the seat. He kept struggling, trying to reach for the keys.

"I SO did not need to see this," I gasped, grabbing the keys from the ignition and handing them to Sam.

Constance pulled herself back and disappeared, a dark shadow passing across her face as she vanished. Sam shot up in his seat and looked around for a moment, then looked at me in confusion.

"Where'd she- AAAHHH!"

He screamed in pain as he was slammed back against the chair, yanking his hoodie open to reveal five new holes burned through the fabric. Constance reappeared on top of him, her ghostly fingers reaching into his chest, seemingly attempting to rip his heart out. I struggled to pull the gun we always kept in the car out of the glove compartment, but stopped when I heard a yell from outside the car.

"ELLA, GET DOWN!"

By now I knew that if someone is screaming at you to get down and there's a ghost nearby, you better get the hell down! I slid into the space in front of the chair and pulled my arms over my head just in time for a shower of broken glass to rain down on me as a bullet pierced through the shotgun window. Constance shot up quickly and glared at Dean before vanishing, but she reappeared a second later. This time, I was ready for her,and shot her directly in the heart until she disappeared again. Sam sat up and started the car, and I quickly opened the door and rolled out onto the ground as Sam slammed the gas pedal and shot through the side of the house. Dean ran over to me and helped me up, scanning me for any injuries.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, looking at me frantically.

I nodded and brushed myself off, and once he was sure that I was okay, we both ran to check on Sam. Dean pushed through the wreckage while I hung back, ready to shoot Constance if she appeared again. Dean helped Sam out of the car, and once he had closed the door, they both turned around to see Constance standing by the door holding a picture of her children. She glared at them darkly and threw the picture down, and a cabinet flew towards the brothers, pinning them to the car. She turned to me and was about to do the same thing when the lights flickered, and she looked up with a terrified expression on her face. Water started to flow down the staircase, and I quickly made my way over to Sam and Dean.

"You guys okay?" I asked, and they nodded, but the cabinet still wouldn't budge. The water continued to pour down the stairs, and suddenly, two children appeared, holding hands at the top of the stairs.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," they said together, and then flickered so they stood behind her. They reached out to her and hugged her tightly, and she screamed, starting to flicker rapidly. In a surge of bright, fiery light, she and her children melted into a puddle on the floor, and all was still.

I helped Sam and Dean move the cabinet away from them, Dean giving it a sharp kick just for good measure.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said stepping closer to the piddle and glaring down at it.

"That's why she could never go home," I said wearily, and Sam turned to look at me, surprised.

"Yeah. She was too scared to face them," he said, putting his arm around me and pulling me close to his side. He looked down at me with concern written all over his face.

"You okay, Ella?" he asked quietly as I leaned my head into his shoulder.

"Yeah, Sam. I'm okay," I said, smiling up at him before looking back at Dean, who was still standing in the same spot.

"You found her weak spot," Dean said, walking over to Sam and smacking his chest where he was injured. Sam laughed, obviously in pain, and I rolled my eyes at Dean's back as he walked over to the car, leaning over to inspect it.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean asked, twisting around with a smirk on his face. I sighed and walked over to stand next to him, leaning on the side of the car.

"If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you."

Sam and I laughed, and Dean reached out to pull the beanie off of my head and put it on his own. I laughed at how ridiculous he looked before jumping on his back and wrapping my long legs around his waist so I could wrestle it off his head, Once I managed to put it back in its proper place, I jumped off of Dean and ran over to the back door of the Impala, diving in before Dean could catch me. Dean shook his head and laughed out loud before climbing into the driver's seat, and Sam quickly followed suit. Dean pulled out of the wreckage of the house and we started towards the highway, leaving large clouds of dust in our wake.

We drove for awhile in silence, the only sound coming from the radio, which was playing a cassette Dean had made for me when John was out on a hunt and I was too scared to sleep. The soft sounds of the piano were making it very hard to keep my eyes open, but the second I heard Sam's voice, I snapped back to attention.

"Okay, here's where Dad went."

I leaned forward in my seat so that I could rest my chin on Dean's shoulder, and he reached back to ruffle my hair.

"It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado," Sam said, looking at the map he had spread out on his lap, lit up by a flashlight he had tucked under his chin.

Dean nodded. "Sounds charming. How far?"

Sam sighed before responding "About six hundred miles."

I could feel Dean sit up a little straighter in his chair, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could picture it perfectly in my mind- his eyes shining with hope as he turned to look at his brother.

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning," Dean grinned, and I felt my heart sink in my chest when Sam didn't respond. After a long pause, Sam finally spoke.

"Dean, I, um…"

I felt Dean sink lower in his seat, and he was silent for a second before he spoke in a flat, dull voice.

"You're not going."

Sam looked down at his lap and sighed before he turned to look at me with sad eyes.

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there," Sam said, trying to meet my eyes, but I looked away and leaned back in my seat, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. Dean looked back at me in the rearview mirror and smiled weakly before he turned to Sam, nodding disappointedly.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever," he said, returning his attention back to the road. He glanced at Sam one more time before he sighed.

"I'll take you home."

Sam turned off the flashlight, and we continued to drive. I couldn't hold back my tears any longer, and spent the rest of the drive silently crying in the back seat. Sam kept turning to look at me, but after a while, he gave up, and stared out the window in silence.

We finally pulled up to Stanford, and Sam got out of the car, leaning over to look through the window.

"Call me if you find him?" Sam said, and Dean nodded silently. Sam then turned to look at me, and I couldn't take it any longer- I opened the door, shot out of the car, and wrapped my arms around him, sobbing. Sam held me for what felt like forever, stroking my hair and telling me it would be alright and that I would see him again before I let him go and looked up at him, tears till streaming down my face. He wiped them away and leaned down to kiss me on the forehead before walking away, turning back to wave at Dean when he reached the doorway. I stood by the side of the car until the door closed behind him, and then I climbed into the passenger seat. Dean took one look at me and pulled me into his arms.

"It's okay, El. He'll be fine," he reassured me, and once I stopped shaking, he let me go and started the engine to drive away. But before we could get very far, we heard a yell from the direction of Sam's floor, and his window glowed with what could only be fire.

Dean looked at me in shock before we both opened our doors and sprinted towards the building, not slowing down except to kick the front door open. We ran into the room and saw Jess pinned to the ceiling, blood soaking her nightgown around her stomach. Sam was still on the bed, one arm raised to shield his face. It took both of us to pull him away from her and out the door, and we had just pulled him down the stairs and out of the building when flames engulfed the apartment.

Sam fell to his knees in shock, and I threw myself down next to him and pulled him into my arms. He rested his head on my chest and sobbed, and Dean held both of us so tightly we could barely breathe until the firemen came.

Once the flames had almost been put out, Sam got up and walked over to the car, opened the trunk, and stood there for a second before pulling out a shotgun. Dean got up and reached his hand down to me, pulling me to my feet, and we walked over to him. When we reached hi, I put my hand on his shoulder and he turned around, his face like a wall of stone. He looked at me for a second before turning to Dean, and nodded before tossing the shotgun into the trunk.

"We got work to do."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N- Friendly reminder that I do not own Sam, Dean, or most of their dialogue- I want to keep it as true to the show as possible, so a good chunk of their dialogue comes directly from transcripts of the show (thank you, !)**

And work we did. We took out a Wendigo in Colorado and a vengeful spirit in Wisconsin, and had finally crashed in a motel along Route 43. I woke up to the sound of the motel door opening and quickly sat up to look at Dean, who motioned for me to stay quiet as he slid his hand under his pillow to grab his knife. Once the door had fully opened, he turned to look, and relaxed once he saw it was Sam. He was carrying three coffees and a bag of pastries, looking wide awake despite the time.

"Morning, sunshines!" Sam said, closing the door behind him by kicking it with his heel. Dean groaned and rubbed his eyes, flopping back onto his stomach on the bed, while Sam put our breakfast down on the small table. I pushed my bangs out of my face and looked up at Sam wearily.

"Sam, what time is it?"

"Uh, it's about 5:45," Sam answered, before sitting down at the table and grabbing one of the coffees.

"In the morning?" Dean asked grumpily, trying to smooth his hair down. Once he noticed that it wasn't going anywhere, he gave up, rolled over and sat up, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like a death threat.

"Ugh. Do you have a death wish?" I asked sarcastically before I got out of bed and walked over to the table, grabbing my iced coffee and a Danish. I sat down at the table with Sam, who looked at me and laughed.

"Nice hair, Ella," he said, before returning to his coffee.

"Yep. You so have a death wish," I sighed, trying to fix my ponytail.

"Did you get any sleep last night, Sammy?" Dean asked, finally getting out of bed to grab his coffee.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours," he answered, obviously lying.

"Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial," Dean smirked, grabbing two donuts. Sam smirked and took a sip of his coffee before he spoke.

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV," he retorted, rolling his eyes at me. I smiled back at him before returning my attention to my breakfast. Dean shook his head and looked at Sam.

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" he asked, trying again to smooth down his hair.

"I don't know- a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal," Sam answered, shrugging.

"Yeah, sure. We both know that when you don't get your sleep you get cranky," I said, shoving the rest of my Danish in my mouth and getting up to grab my clothes.

"I'm gonna take a shower, okay?" I said, ruffling Dean's hair as I made my way to the bathroom. He tried to smack my hand away, but I was too quick for him, and as I closed the bathroom door I could hear him muttering "one of these days, I swear…"

I quickly showered, and was debating whether to wash my hair or not when I heard Dean's muffled voice through the door, saying something about Jess.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?"

I tried to grab my shampoo and listen at the same time, but promptly dropped the bottle on my foot. I swore loudly, and I could hear Sam and Dean laughing at me. Rolling my eyes, I started scrubbing my scalp while I continued to eavesdrop.

"Yeah, but it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you," Sam said, and I could tell he meant it.

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that," Dean told him.

"So, what? All this, it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asked, and I had to choke down my laughter. Apparently Sam had never seen the knife under Dean's pillow. I put conditioner in my hair and rinsed for a few seconds before shutting the shower off and wrapping a towel around my body. The rest of their conversation was cut off by the sound of my hairdryer as I attempted to at least dry my hair enough that water wouldn't be dripping down my back for an hour. I gave up after about 10 minutes and threw some clothes on, leaving my hair down. Just as I had finished getting dressed, I heard a knock on the door, and opened it to see Dean holding his phone up.

"Hey, we got a case," he said, looking pleased.

"Yeah, what's up?" I said, going back to the mirror to put on some eyeliner and mascara. He looked at me for a second and was about to say something before he noticed me glaring at him, daring him to make a comment, and decided to stay quiet. He shook his head at me before continuing to tell me about the case.

"Hey, you remember that Jerry Panowski guy?"

"Sounds vaguely familiar. Wasn't he the guy who had the poltergeist problem in in Kittanning?" I asked, putting the stuff back in my bag and moving past him to put it in my backpack.

"Yeah, that's the guy. Anyway, he said he had another problem, but wouldn't discuss it on the phone. We're heading out in a few- you ready?" he said, grabbing his jacket from the bedside table.

"Yeah, I'm ready. You're showering, right?" Dean looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, and I sighed and gave him a pointed look.

"Sure. How about you and Sammy go load up the car- I'll be out in a few," he said before going into the bathroom and closing the door. I looked at Sam and he nodded at me, and I slung my backpack over my shoulder before heading out to the car, grabbing a pillow from the bed. Sam looked at me with one eyebrow raised, and I shrugged at him.

"Dude, the sun's barely up. Besides, who knows when I'll have the chance to sleep on a clean pillow again, and Dean got blood all over my favorite one," I said, throwing my stuff in the backseat. Sam grinned and hopped into the passenger seat, and we sat for a few minutes before Dean came out, hair dripping everywhere. He opened the backseat door, stuck his head in and shook like a wet dog, spraying both me and Sam with water. I yelled at him and smacked him with my pillow, and Sam just rolled his eyes and told him to get in the car. He jumped in and we drove off, blasting Survivor.

We pulled up to the hangar a couple hours later and Sam jumped out of the car to stretch his legs while I grabbed my backpack and Dean pulled the key from the ignition. A balding man walked toward us, and as he got closer, I recognized him- Jerry, the guy Dean, John, and I had helped with the poltergeist. He reached out to shake Sam and Dean's hands before turning to me with a huge grin on his face.

"I almost didn't recognize you, Ella!" he said, reaching out to pull me into a hug.

"It's only been a few years, Jerry- I haven't changed _that_ much," I laughed, smirking at him.

"Anyway, thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Ella, Dean, and your dad really helped me out," Jerry said, motioning for us to follow him. Sam looked at him, surprised.

"Wait, Ella was actually on the hunt? I thought you and Dad just brought her along because you didn't want to leave her alone?" he asked, and Dean shook his head.

"Nope, she worked the hunt. She was actually pretty damn good at it too- saved my ass from that poltergeist," Dean responded, slinging his arm over my shoulders and looking down at me proudly.

"Yeah, the thing practically tore our house apart. Tell you something- if it wasn't for you two and John, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college- is that right?" Jerry said, leading us past a rack of spare parts.

"Yeah, I was. I'm… taking some time off," Sam responded, looking down.

"Well, he was real proud of you- I could tell. He talked about you all the time," Jerry said, as we got closer to his office door. Sam looked at him in confusion.

"He did?"

"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get ahold of him, but I couldn't- How's he doing anyway?"

"He's, uh, wrapped up in a job right now," Dean responded carefully.

"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry said, grinning at all of us and opening his office door.

"No, not by a long shot," Sam said, looking down at his feet with a shy grin.

Jerry ushered us all in and we all gathered around his desk. There were only two chairs, and, looking at Sam, both Dean and I rushed to sit before he could. When Sam realized what had just happened, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"What are you guys, 5?" He said, pretending to be annoyed, but that didn't last long before he gave up and broke into a grin. Jerry looked at us fondly.

"Well, at least some things never change," he said, before sitting down at his desk and getting back to business. "I got something I want you guys to hear. Sounded like it was up your alley."

He pulled out a CD and put it into the machine and Sam, Dean, and I leaned closer to the desk.

"Normally I wouldn't have access to this- it's the cockpit voice recorder for United Brittania flight 2485. It was one of ours," Jerry said as he pressed play.

We listened to what sounded to be the last moments before the plane crashed, and Jerry told us that the plane had taken off from the airport and ended up about 200 miles south. Everyone thought it had been a mechanical failure- the cabin had somehow managed to depressurize during the flight, killing everyone on board except for seven people. One of them was the pilot, Chuck Lambert- a good friend of Jerry's. He was apparently pretty broken up about it and thought it was his fault, but Jerry disagreed. Once Jerry had finished talking, Sam leaned forward.

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors…" Sam said, and Jerry nodded in agreement.

"And, uh, anyway we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked, looking at me. I nodded and looked at Jerry to see him frowning and shaking his head.

"The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage… the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean turned to look at me, frowning,and was about to speak up before I smirked at him and cut him off.

"No problem."

We went to the nearest copy store so Dean could put together the IDs we needed. After a while, we saw him walking towards the door with a smug grin on his face. As he exited, a woman was entering, and they greeted each other- I could see them checking each other out. I looked at Sam and rolled my eyes, and Sam sighed before stepping away from where he had been leaning against the side of the car.

"You've been in there forever."

Dean grinned and held up three IDs before tossing one to me and one to Sam, who looked up at him in surprise.

"Homeland Security? That's pretty illegal, even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new, you know? People haven't seen it a thousand times," Dean retorted before getting in the driver's seat.

"Which makes them more likely to remember us, dumbass!" I pointed out, smacking him on the shoulder. He turned around and was about to make what was most likely a smartass response before his face fell and he shrugged.

"Yeah, good point. Too late now," he said, as he turned to look at Sam, who had been messing with the tape from the plane.

"So, what do you got?"

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam said before pressing play. It sounded like mostly static, but then we heard it- a scratchy voice, proclaiming 'no survivors'. I turned to Sam, confused.

"What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors, right?"

Sam nodded, but seemed just as confused as I was.

"Got me."

Dean looked at him thoughtfully. "So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, there's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers…

"Wait, like flight 401?" I interjected, and Sam and Dean looked back at me, nodding.

"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put them in other planes, then the spirits of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights," Dean said, and Sam nodded at him.

"Maybe we got a similar deal."

Dean agreed before turning so he could see me better. "All right, so, survivors. Which one should we talk to first?"

I shrugged, but Sam had already made his decision.

"Third on the list- Max Jaffey."

"Why him?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did," Sam said, and I looked at him, not understanding what he meant.

"Why him?" I asked, leaning forward to look at Sam.

"Remember the phone call I made while we were waiting for Dean? That was Max's mother, and she told me where to find him- Riverfront Psychiatric hospital."

I froze, and Dean spun to look at me with worry in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but I shot him a pleading look and motioned silently to Sam. He stayed silent, but kept watching me, waiting for my response. Sam looked at both of us with a puzzled look on his face, and I sighed before looking Dean in the eyes and nodding silently.

"Let's go."

We drove in silence, Dean looking back at me every so often through the rearview mirror with worry shining in his eyes. I managed a weak smile, but as we got closer to the hospital, it became harder to pretend that nothing was bothering me. We pulled into the parking lot and into a free spot by the entry, and once he had stopped the car, Dean turned to look at me.

"El, you don't have to do this… You can stay in the car if you want," He said quietly, but I shook my head.

"No, Dean, it's fine," I said, trying to hide how bad my hands were shaking. Sam looked at Dean quizzically before turning to me,not knowing what we were talking about. I shook my head at him and mouthed that I would tell him later, and got out of the car. He turned to Dean and looked like he was about to ask him what was going on, but Dean shook his head and I could hear him say "Not now, Sam. It's not for me to tell."

We made our way to the front desk, flashed our IDs, and the nurse showed us to the garden, where we found Max sitting on a bench with a cane tucked between his knees. Sam and Dean approached him with me trailing slightly behind- I looked too young to be working with Homeland Security, so I was introduced as their trainee. Besides, I was way too shaky to play the part of a full-fledged agent- my nervous energy fit the part of the wide-eyed newbie much better. I could hear them talking quietly, but my mind was elsewhere. I stared off into the distance for what seemed like hours, but must have only been a few minutes, when Dean approached me and put a hand on my shoulder. I jumped slightly and spun around to face him, but as soon as I saw it was him, I calmed down slightly.

"Hey, we're done here. You okay?" he asked, bending down so he could look me in the eyes.

"Not really, but I'll feel better once we get out of here," I answered shakily, and he nodded as we made our way to the car.

Once we had all gotten in, Sam told me what they had learned- Max had checked himself in after the crash because he thought he was seeing things. Specifically, he thought he saw a passenger on the plane open the emergency exit in the back of the plane, which should have been impossible. The man's name was George Phelps, and he was in the seat in front of Max. Sam and Dean had gotten his address from the passenger manifest, and we decided to head there to talk to his wife.

"Man, I don't care how strong you are- even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during the flight," Dean said as we got out of the car.

"Not if you're human," I pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form," Sam said, nodding at me.

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean smirked, nodding his head towards the house.

"Appearances can be deceiving, Dean," I said as I started walking up to the door.

George's wife answered the door, and after we showed her our badges, she invited us in, and showed us to the living room. It looked perfectly normal- magazines scattered across the coffee table, family photos on the walls, the whole nine yards. Sam and Dean sat on the couch across from her while I sat down gently in the chair next to her, resisting the urge to flop onto the chair and cross my legs underneath me. Sam grabbed one of the photos from the table next to him, and held it up so she could see.

"This is your late husband?"

"Yes, that was my George," she said, tears filling her eyes.

"And you said he was a… dentist?" Dean chimed in, leaning towards her.

"Yes. He was headed to a convention in Denver… do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that…" she trailed off, wiping at her eyes. I reached for her hands and held them in my own, offering some much-needed comfort.

"Mrs. Phelps, how long were you married?" I asked quietly.

"Thirteen years."

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked, and she shook her head before pausing to reconsider.

"Well… uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean."

I caught Dean's eye and shook my head almost imperceptibly before turning back to Mrs. Phelps.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, ma'am. If you need anything, anything at all, feel free to call us." I handed her one of our fake business cards and stood up to leave, smiling slightly at her as we walked out the door and down the stairs. Once we reached the car, I turned to the two brothers.

"Okay, this makes no sense. George Phelps was a middle-aged dentist with a fear of flying and an ulcer- he doesn't sound like an evil creature to me," I said as I climbed into the backseat.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Sam said, shutting the passenger-side door and turning to look at me. Dean nodded in agreement.

"You know, what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage," Dean pointed out as he started the car.

"Yeah, but we need to make a stop first- no way will we pass for Homeland Security agents looking like this," I interjected, looking pointedly at Sam and Dean's outfits.

Sam nodded. "I saw a store in town that we can go to- it's not far."

"All right, let's go," Dean said, and we pulled away from the curb and set off into town.

About half an hour later, we walked out of the suit rental shop in matching black suits with white shirts, looking like proper agents.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean muttered, pulling at his collar.

"You're complaining? They put me in a freaking skirt!" I hissed, trying to pull the tight black pencil skirt down towards my knees. I had protested when the clerk gave it to me, but Dean gave me a look telling me not to argue, so I put the damn thing on anyway. I had to admit, it didn't look bad- it hugged my curves well and even had a couple-inches-long slit in front of my left leg, but still.

"El, you look fine," Sam insisted, but I could see him trying to hold back his laughter.

"I swear to God, if I have to run in this god damn skirt, I'm going to trip and fall and die!" I yelled, getting strange looks from the people walking by us.

"You'll be fine kid. Now get in the car- I don't like the way that guy's looking at you," Dean said, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Dean, remember the last time some douche-canoe tried to hit on me and you thought I couldn't handle myself?" I said, crossing my arms defiantly and standing up as straight as possible. Dean laughed, knowing exactly what I was talking about.

"What did you do?" Sam asked, looking quizzically at his brother, who was laughing so hard tears were coming out of his eyes.

"Let's just say if he ever has children in the future, it'll be a medical miracle," I said coyly, and got into the car, somehow managing not to flash the entire street.

Sam looked at Dean, who was wiping tears away from his eyes, and was speechless for a second before he managed to squeeze out a response.

"Did she really do that?"

"Yep. You should have seen that son of a bitch cry," Dean managed to say, finally getting himself under control.

"Huh," Sam said in amazement, before he and Dean got in the car and we pulled away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**

 **So in case you couldn't tell by the first sentence of this story, there's going to be a little bit of language. If you don't like seeing that kind of thing, then this might be a good time to find another story to read- Ella tends to get very… creative with her insults. (AKA this is what happens when you let me watch Archer)**

 **Okay, now that I've gotten that warning out of the way, I hope you enjoy the story, and don't be afraid to review- I'm always looking for feedback on how I could make the story better :)**

"I TOLD YOU THIS SHIT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!" I screamed at Dean as he, Sam and I ran out of the warehouse to a symphony of blaring alarms. Turns out that real agents showed up about five minutes after we did, and managed to leave quietly- and then the alarms started. We got to a gated exit with barbed wire along the top, and Dean threw his jacket over the wire and climbed over the fence. Sam quickly followed him, leaving me on the other side of the fence. I swore loudly, grabbed the two sides of the slit in my skirt, and ripped the skirt up to my thigh before hurling myself over the fence and landing hard on the other side. I looked up at Sam and Dean, who were staring at me in shock.

"Uh…. Ella, that was…." Sam stuttered.

"AWESOME!" Dean yelled, giving me a high five before tearing towards the car. Rolling my eyes, I sprinted after him, Sam right behind me. We threw ourselves into the car and peeled out of the lot, and once we were safely on the road back to the airport hangar, I leaned forward so Sam and Dean could hear me over the music.

"I swear to God, if anyone ever puts me in a skirt to go undercover EVER AGAIN, I am going to KILL THEM!" I hissed. The two boys were silent for a moment before cracking up, and I tried my best to be stoic but gave up, and we spent the next five minutes howling with laughter.

By the time we got back to the hangar, I had put my jeans back on and thrown the jacket at Sam's head, and I felt much more like myself. I took my hair out of the tight ponytail it was in and shook my head, and my hair fell around my face in its usual wild curls. We stepped out of the car and made our way to Jerry's office, and he greeted us brightly. We handed him the bag of yellow dust from the emergency door handle and he grabbed a microscope to get a closer look. After a few minutes, he spoke up.

"Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, looking at the monitor where the slide was replicated from the microscope.

"Take a look for yourself," Jerry said, standing up and stepping away from the table. Suddenly, we heard loud banging noises coming from outside the office, followed by a loud string of swear words. Jerry sighed.

"If you guys would excuse me, I have an idiot to fire."

He stepped out of the room, and I walked over to the microscope to get a better look.

"So what are we thinking?" I asked, turning to face Sam and Dean.

"Demonic possession?" Sam suggested, and Dean turned to him and nodded,.

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch."

"Yeah, but something seems off. We've seen demons possess people before, but using them to take down a plane? Have you guys ever heard of anything like this?" I asked, spinning the chair away from the table to face them.

"Never," Dean answered, and Sam shook his head.

"Well, I guess it's research time," I sighed, and both boys nodded before we said goodbye to Jerry and headed back to the hotel.

Once we got back, we started our research. Sam sat at the table with his laptop, Dean was sprawled across one of the beds with a book, and I was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a heavy book in my lap and my laptop next to me.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean, Christian, Native American, Hindu- you name it," Sam asked, looking up at Dean.

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this," Dean answered, closing his book and raking his hand through his hair.

"Not exactly, but listen to this- according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons cause certain disasters. There's one that causes earthquakes, ones that cause disease.." I said, looking up at the two brothers.

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean questioned, getting up from the bed to walk around the room. "All right, so, what- we have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Possibly- this might not be its first rodeo," I said, and Dean snorted and turned away.

"What?" Sam asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"I don't know, guys. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything- just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big." Dean hesitated before continuing. "And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah. Me too," Sam chimed in, smiling weakly. Then, seemingly remembering something, he turned to me and opened his mouth.

"Hey El?"

"Yeah, Sammy?" I asked, looking up at him. He slid to the ground from his chair so that he sat in front of me, and hesitated for a second before continuing to speak.

"I asked Dean something earlier, and he told me to ask you… Why was he so worried about you going into that psych hospital?"

My heart sunk. I hoped that he had forgotten about that, but I should have known better- Sam wasn't exactly the unobservant type. I looked down at my lap for a moment before I responded.

"Sam…"

Dean came and sat on the floor next to me and reached out for my hand, and I turned to look at him.

"Listen, El- you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said quietly, but I shook my head and managed a smile.

"I'll be fine, Dean. He needs to know." I squeezed Dean's hand and turned back to Sam, who was anxiously waiting for my response.

"After you left for college, things got bad. John went on hunt after hunt, leaving me and sometimes Dean in motels for weeks at a time. Dean tried to stay with me whenever he could, but your Dad wasn't exactly easy to reason with," I said, and Sam nodded his head in agreement before waiting for me to continue.

"Anyway, one day, Dean and John went on a hunt in Texas- a demon was wreaking havoc on a small town. I wanted to come so badly, but John said no. They were gone for two weeks- Dean called when he could, but the calls became less and less frequent. And then they stopped." I paused to catch my breath, and Dean put his arm around my shoulder, sensing I was getting overwhelmed. I smiled at him gratefully before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"I stopped sleeping. I waited by the door all night, hoping that they would stumble in at midnight. I did this for a few nights, but on the last night, things changed. The lights kept flickering, and I started to hear whispering in the walls. And then the power went out. That's when the panic attack started," I said, my voice breaking. Dean pulled me closer to him and I leaned into his shoulder, not daring to look at Sam.

"I couldn't breathe- I was gasping and clutching my chest, fighting for air, and screaming for someone to help me. I crawled to a corner and spread a circle of salt around me, and grabbed the knife that Dean had left under his pillow." The tears started falling down my face, but I kept talking.

"That's how the police found me. Someone had called them when they heard me screaming, and when they came in… they took one look at me and called the paramedics. They sedated me, and I woke up the next morning in a hospital bed with restraints around my arms. The doctors told me I was suffering from a psychotic break caused by lack of sleep- the flickering lights and whispers were just hallucinations. They tried to ask me questions, but I refused to say anything- I knew they wouldn't believe me." I finally broke down, and Dean pulled me into a hug and let me cry on his shoulder while he rested his chin on my head.

"They sent you to a psych hospital, didn't they?" Sam said quietly, and Dean nodded.

"She stayed there for a week before she started talking again. The first thing she said was my name and cell phone number, and the hospital called me. I came and got her and took her back to the motel." Dean continued for me.

"Then we moved on, and everything went back to normal- but every time I enter a hospital, it feels like I'm back there- that's why I was so out of it when we went to see Max," I finished, and finally managed to look up at Sam. He looked stunned, and was speechless for a minute before scooting over to me and wrapping me up in a hug. I started crying all over again, but Sam just hugged me until the tears had stopped. Then he brushed my hair out of my face and looked me in the eyes before opening his mouth to speak.

"El, I'm so sorry that happened to you… I wish I had been there to protect you," he said quietly, and started to say something else before I cut him off.

"It wasn't your fault, Sam. It wasn't anybody's fault."

"How did you keep hunting?" he asked, looking at me in amazement. I laughed, remembering what Dean had done.

"Well, Dean told me that someone needed to keep his ass out of trouble, and taught me how to throw knives," I said, and Dean smiled at the memory.

We all laughed, but were interrupted when Dean's phone rang. He reached for it and answered the call.

"Oh, hey, Jerry," he said, before putting the phone on ground between all of us and putting him on speaker.

"My pilot friend, Chuck Lambert is dead."

We all froze, before I managed to speak up.

"Oh my God… Jerry, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down about sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."

"I'll try to ignore the irony in that," Dean responded, and I reached out to smack him.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nice work, jackass," I hissed, going to smack him again. This time, though, he managed to dodge my hand.

"Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon," Dean said before hanging up. I sighed, and grabbed my bag before hopping to my feet. The two brother quickly followed.

"Well, I guess we're going to Nazareth," I said, and started towards the car. "I call shotgun!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

 **So the last chapter was kind of short, but this one pretty much makes up for it- I had a sudden burst of motivation and decided to crank this out while it lasted (It may or may not be two in the morning- shh!).**

 **Thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed the story so far- I'm so happy that you are enjoying it, and I hope that you continue to do so as the story goes on. Comments? Suggestions? Don't be afraid to leave a review or message me- I'm always happy to hear from you guys :)**

 **Okay, enough talk from me- I hope you like this chapter!**

We arrived at Jerry's office and knocked on the door. We could hear shuffling inside, and after a minute, Jerry opened the door. He looked horrible- his tie had been loosened at some point and now hung crooked around his neck, his face was splotchy, and his eyes were dull. I quickly stepped forward and wrapped him up in a hug, which he gratefully returned before pulling away and wiping at his nose.

"I just can't believe he's gone…" he trailed off, before shaking himself and standing up a little straighter. "You guys should take a look at this."

We followed him over to the table with the microscope, and he turned it on before gesturing to us to take a look. I stepped forward and sat down, and pushed my hair out of my face before leaning forward to look through the eyepiece.

"Sulfur?" I asked, turning to look at Jerry, who nodded in response before telling us that it had been found at the site of the crash. Dean sighed and crossed his arms against his chest.

"Well that's great," he said sarcastically before he spoke again in a more serious tone. "All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam chimed in, looking at me somberly.

"And the bad news?" I questioned, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my thighs. Sam reached up to rub the back of his neck before continuing to speak.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this- so did flight 2485." I looked up from the floor and locked eyes with Dean, and his worried expression mirrored mine. Jerry, however, just looked confused.

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?"

"According to biblical numerology, the number 40 means death. Like Noah's Ark- it rained for 40 days," I answered him, and Dean nodded in agreement and shot me a proud look.

"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in," Sam added, showing us a printout detailing the crashes.

"Any survivors?" Dean questioned, and Sam looked up and shook his head.

"No. Or not until now, at least- not until flight 2485, for some reason," he said, and then it hit me.

"Son of a bitch…" I growled, and Dean turned to look at me in surprise- although whether it was because of my tone or because I had stolen his line, I had no idea. "Remember the EVP on the cockpit voice recorder?" Dean's face lit up in understanding, and he turned to Sam.

"No survivors," he said somberly, and shook his head slowly before he continued. "It's going after all the survivors- it's trying to finish the job." I swore under my breath and shot up from my seat, heading to the door. Dean followed close behind me, and I could hear Sam mutter a quick 'thanks' to Jerry before jogging to catch up with us. We all climbed in the car and Dean tossed me his phone, which I caught with one hand before strapping myself in.

"Sam, what's our first survivor's number?" I asked, and he dug around in his bag for his laptop before flipping it open and rattling off the number. "How are we gonna play this?"

Sam smirked and turned around in his seat so I could see him better before holding up his phone. "Know anything about surveys?"

Fifteen minutes later, we had called all of the survivors except one- Amanda Walker, a flight attendant. I finished up my call in a fake-cheery voice before hanging up and groaning as I slumped back into my seat. Dean looked back at me through the rearview mirror and grinned at me.

"I didn't know it was possible for you to sound that cheery," he quipped. I stuck my tongue out at him, making him laugh.

"Hey, someone's gotta do it, and you would be too busy flirting to get any information," I retorted, and Dean opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it, realizing that I had a point. Sam chuckled from the passenger seat, but quickly stopped when he saw the look Dean was giving him.

"Well, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway- they're not flying anytime soon," Sam said, and Dean nodded at him.

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant," Dean answered, and looked at me for confirmation.

"Yeah. I managed to get ahold of her sister Karen- Amanda's flight leaves indianapolis at 8," I responded, and Dean muttered something about it being just our luck.

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive man, even with you behind the wheel," Sam said, but Dean shook his head and told me to call Amanda's cell phone again.

"I already left her three voicemails- she must have turned her phone off," I said grimly, and tossed Dean's phone onto his lap. He picked it up and glared at it before shoving it into his pocket. Sam slumped back into his chair and sighed.

"God, we'll never make it."

Dean looked at me through the rearview mirror with a sly grin, and I rolled my eyes and made sure my seatbelt was secure. Then I nudged Sam and motioned for him to put his on, which he did immediately- he had learned the hard way if he didn't, he would end up with his face smashed into the dashboard.

"We'll make it."

And with that, Dean stepped on the gas, and we sped down the road.

We ran into the airport and immediately started searching or the departure board. I spotted it first and elbowed Sam, and we jogged up to the board, Sam pulling Dean behind him. After a few seconds, Sam found the flight and pointed to it.

"Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes," he said, and turned to Dean.

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone," he said, and spun around to look for one. I spotted a courtesy phone attached to a pole and nudged Dean, who immediately ran over and picked it up.

"Hi. Gate thirteen," he said, glancing up at me and Sam. "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker- she's a flight attendant on flight…" he turned to look at us and shrugged.

"424," I said, and he repeated the numbers into the phone. He listened to the person on the other end for a moment before giving us a thumbs-up, and we both let out a sigh of relief. Then Amanda must have answered the phone on the other end, because he straightened up and pointed to the phone.

"Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here," he said, pausing, before continuing with "Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so-" he froze and looked up at Sam and I with a panicked look on his face. "You what? Uh, well… there must be some mistake," at this point, Dean made what could only be described as an 'oh shit' face, and Sam and I quickly moved closer and leaned in so we could hear what was going on.

"Is this one of Vince's friends?" came through the phone, and Dean looked at us for a moment before smirking.

"Guilty as charged," he said, and shrugged at me and Sam.

"Wow. This is unbelieveable."

"He's….really sorry," Dean said quickly. He looked over to me for help and mouthed 'what do I do?', and I leaned over to whisper in his ear while Amanda said something about Vince needing to mind his own business.

"Look, I talked to him, and he's a mess- he really needs to see you tonight. Give him one more chance?" Dean looked at me and raised an eyebrow, and I nodded in approval.

"Really?" Amanda said, and Dean reached out to give me a quick high-five. Sam rolled his eyes at us, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Look, I've got to go. Um… tell him to call me when I land," she said, and Dean looked at us in a panic.

"No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda?" he said, just before we heard a click from the other end and the line went dead.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed, and slammed the phone down. "So close!"

"What do we do now?" I asked, and Sam straightened up before responding.

"All right, it's time for Plan B- we're getting on that plane," Sam said, and Dean turned to him, eyes wide with shock.

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second," he said, and I nodded emphatically at Sam.

"Sam, are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked, and Sam crossed his arms in exasperation.

"Guys, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is going to crash," he said, and turned to Dean, who let out a shaky breath.

"Okay, so we're getting on that plane- we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll go get the tickets- you and Ella grab whatever you can from the trunk that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes," Sam declared, and was about to walk away when he noticed the look on Dean's face.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, and put my hand on Dean's arm. He turned to me, and I could immediately see that he wasn't- he was as white as a ghost.

"No, not really,' he managed to say, and Sam gave him a look of concern.

"What? What's wrong?" he said, and Dean wiped sweat from his forehead, and was about to respond before I interrupted him.

"Dean… are you afraid of flying?" I said, and he turned to look at me before nodding quickly.

"It's never really been an issue until now," he said, and Sam looked at him in surprise.

"You're joking, right?" he said, and I shot him a look. He quickly cleared his throat and sighed, pausing for a moment before continuing to speak.

"All right. Uh, Ella and I will go."

"What?" Dean asked, and Sam sighed again.

"We'll do this one on our own."

"What, are you nuts? You said it yourself, this plane's gonna crash," Dean sputtered, and I squeezed his arm to try to get him to calm down a little bit.

"Dean, we can do it together, or Ella and I can do this one by ourselves," Sam said, and I looked at Dean with concern. He really didn't look good- he was still pretty pale, and I could see his hands start to shake. I had never seen him like this before, and I knew that he was telling the truth.

"Dean, I can stay with you if you want- I'm pretty sure Sam can handle this on his own," I said, and turned to Sam to see if that was okay. He didn't look very happy about it, but he nodded in agreement. He was about to say something, but Dean straightened up and took a deep breath.

"No, I'll go. There's no way I'm letting you and my little brother do this without me," he said, turning to me, and I smiled at him.

"It'll be okay, Dean. Come on, we need to hurry if we're going to make it onto that plane," I said, and Dean and I started jogging to the car to get our stuff. I grabbed my backpack and threw some holy water, duct tape, my iPod, and a book into it, and zipped it up. Once Dean was finished, we closed the trunk and headed back inside to meet Sam. Once we had found him, we headed towards the gate.

Ten minutes later, we had made it onto the plane. I ended up in the middle between Sam and Dean, and I shoved my bag under the seat in front of me before pulling out my iPod and slipping my earbuds in. Sam had already claimed the window seat, and Dean sat on the aisle, still looking nervous as all get out. He pulled the safety card out of the pocket in front of him and started anxiously leafing through it before I noticed what he was doing and snatched it out of his hands, making him jump.

"Trust me, dude- reading that will only make it worse", I said, pulling out the earbud closest to Sam. Dean smiled gratefully at me, and I offered him the earbud. He took it, his hands still shaking slightly, and as he put it in, I found Metallica and picked a song, knowing that would calm him down. He relaxed for a bit, but as soon as the pilot announced that we were ready to take off, he tensed up again and reached for the armrest, holding onto it for dear life. I put my hand on top of his and paused the music so he could hear me better before leaning in to reassure him.

"Dean, it's going to be okay", I said quietly, and he relaxed his hand enough for me to nudge his hand off the armrest and place mine facing up. He wiped his hand on his jeans before taking my hand and managing a weak smile, and then he faced forward as we took off, refusing to look out of the window.

After about fifteen minutes in the air, my iPod decided to die, so Dean was leaning back in his seat and humming a song I had played earlier. Sam gave him a strange look, and leaned closer to me so he could talk to Dean, who was clutching my hand like his life depended on it.

"You're humming Metallica?"

"Calms me down," Dean responded tensely, and Sam shook his head.

"Look, man- I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused," Sam said, and Dean nodded and took a deep breath, and his grip loosened on my hand. I smiled at him quickly before turning to Sam and speaking so Dean couldn't hear me

"We got thirty-two minutes and counting," I said, trying to hide the worry in my voice and failing, "to find this damn thing- or whoever it's possessing- and perform a full exorcism. What's the plan?"

"Let's take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?" he said. Dean leaned forward and rested his chin on my shoulder, startling me, before he invaded the discussion.

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness- you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress," he added, and Sam leaned closer to me so it would be harder to hear us.

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash- if I were her, I'd be pretty messed up."

Sam said, and I nodded and turned towards the aisle, catching the attention of a flight attendant.

"Excuse me, ma'am- could I have a Diet Coke?" I asked, and Dean turned to look at me in confusion. The attendant smiled at me and nodded before walking away.

"Why the sudden need for a drink?" Dean asked, and I rolled my eyes before answering.

"First of all, if we're going to be taking down a plane-crashing demon, I'm gonna need some caffeine," I said, and Dean contemplated my answer before nodding and waiting for me to continue. "And second, I just found our girl. I was checking the attendant's name tag- not Amanda. And there's only two female flight attendants on this plane… do the math." I nodded towards the back of the plane, and both Sam and Dean spun around to see her standing behind the curtain, checking something on the wall. Dean nodded and moved to get up but I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back into his seat.

"Dean, you need to focus on not freaking out- I got this." I stood up, and he looked at me in surprise.

"No holy water?" he asked, and I simply shrugged in response.

"There are easier ways to test if someone's possessed- if she is, she'll flinch at the name of God," I said, and Sam looked at me and nodded.

"You know to say it in Latin, right?" he asked, and I scoffed and leaned my elbow on the top of Dean's seat before answering. The attendant came back with a plastic cup filled with Diet Coke and I took it from her, smiling gratefully before draining most of it in one gulp.

"Yes, Sammy, I know," I said, rolling my eyes at him. "It's Christo."

Sam nodded, and a proud smile spread across his face. "Good. I was just testing you," he said, and I rolled my eyes again before starting towards the back of the plane, carrying my now-empty (except for way too many ice cubes) cup with me.

Once I reached the curtain, I paused for a second and dipped my hand into my cup, flicking water onto my face and chest so I looked like I was sweating. Then I slipped behind the curtain and leaned against the wall, trying to look anxious and scared. It took her a minute to look back at me, and she noticed my 'condition' and turned towards me.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked, handing me a napkin. I patted my face and chest with it and took a deep breath before responding, trying to make my voice sound shaky.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine- I'm just not the biggest fan of flying, and I get claustrophobic easily," I answered, and she smiled at me.

"Happens to the best of us," she said, and turned around, continuing to fuss with the snack cart like she had been doing before I interrupted.

"Yeah, but you're a flight attendant- flying must come easy to you," I said, continuing to wipe the "sweat" off of my face and chest. She laughed quietly before turning back to me.

"You'd be surprised," she said, and smiled, but I could tell that her heart wasn't in it.

"You're not a fan of flying either?" I said, and she shook her head.

"Yeah, maybe- a little bit."

"Do you mind if I ask why?" I said quietly, and smiled warmly at her to make her feel more at ease. She turned away, obviously uneasy.

"Kind of a long story."

I nodded and apologized softly, and she turned back to me and smiled weakly. I could see that she was uneasy, and quickly shifted back to a more comfortable topic.

"Okay, I have to ask you- how do you get your hair to look so smooth?" I said, recalling a conversation I had overheard between two girls at the mall- one of the few times I had gone shopping for new clothes. They babbled on and on about hair products and outfits and jewelry, so much so that by the time I had finished my lunch, I was exhausted. She laughed, and leaned against the wall, seeming much more relaxed.

"Leave-in conditioner," she said, and I nodded.

"Hey, there's this new brand I heard about- it's called Christo Haircare," I said, carefully watching her response before continuing. "Have you heard anything about it?"

She paused and looked at me in confusion. "I'm sorry, what's the brand?"

"Christo Haircare? I read about it somewhere online…" I trailed off, noticing no reaction to the name of God. She shook her head, and I shrugged.

"Never mind, I think i got the name wrong… Anyway, I should get back to my seat- my brother is probably wondering what's taking so long," I said, stretching my hands above my head. She smiled and said it was nice talking to me, and I said the same before turning around and going back to my seat.

I finally reached Sam and Dean, and carefully climbed over Dean- who was now humming something that sounded suspiciously like AC/DC- and flopped down in my seat. Sam looked up from the in-flight magazine he had been reading with an expectant look on his face, and I shook my head. His face fell, and Dean looked over at us in confusion. Sam shook his head at him, and panic flashed across his face before leaning back and resuming his humming. I offered him my hand again and he took it, and I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Well, she's pretty well-adjusted for someone who almost died a few days ago," I said, and Sam shook his head. "There's no demon in her, and I don't think one's getting in either."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere," he responded, leaning back in his seat to stare at the ceiling. The plane started shaking, and Dean shot up in his seat and tightened his grip on my hand. I tried to hide that I was starting to panic as well, and leaned over to put my head on his shoulder. He slung his arm around me and pulled me closer to him like a stuffed animal, and Sam, noticing that I was starting to get worried as well, reached for my other hand, and I took it before burying my head into Dean's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence," Sam said reassuringly, aimed mostly at Dean, who didn't seem reassure at all.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four," he hissed, and tightened his grip on me. I wiggled a little bit, trying to get some air, and he loosened his grip and smiled at me apologetically, his arm still slung around my shoulder. I smiled back up at him and rested my head on his chest . I could hear how fast his heart was beating, and lifted my head back up so I could look at him.

"Dean, you really need to calm down," I murmured quietly, trying to sound as calming as possible while hiding my own fear. He shook his head emphatically and Sam leaned closer to us.

"Yes, you can," he said, but Dean was having none of it.

"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping!" he growled, and Sam looked at me for help. I sighed and put my hand on Dean's face, turning his head so I could look him in the eyes.

"Dean, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you have to calm yourself down, okay?" He managed to nod slightly, and I leaned my head onto his shoulder to comfort him. He rested his cheek on the top of my head and took a few deep breaths, and I could feel him relaxing slightly.

"Good," Sam said soothingly, before turning back to the book he had on his lap. "Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work- the Rituale Romanum."

I sat up and turned to him. "What do we have to do?" I asked, and I could feel Dean nodding behind me.

"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body- it makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful" Sam answered, and i instantly tensed up.

"More powerful?" I asked, and could hear the pitch of my voice rising in panic.

Sam looked at me in concern, and I could feel Dean's arm tighten around my shoulder before Sam nodded his head.

"How?" Dean asked, somehow managing to sound calmer than me (although, at this point, it wasn't that hard).

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore- it can just wreak havoc on its own," Sam answered. I started to reply, but noticing that I sounded like I had inhaled a buttload of helium, I quickly decided against it. Dean looked at me in confusion for a second before he looked back to Sam, who I was now refusing to look at.

"And why is that a good thing?" Dean asked, and noticing how tense I had become, rubbed my arm to try to comfort me.

"Well, because the second part sneds the bastard back to hell once and for all," Sam said, and Dean nodded, satisfied with the outcome.

"First things first, we got to find it," he said, and ruffled my hair before reaching into his bag to pull out his EMF meter. He got up and started walking down the aisle towards the front of the plane, and Sam shifted in his seat like he was going to follow him, but out a hand on my shoulder instead. I jumped slightly and turned to him, and I could see that he was worried about me.

"El, are you okay?" he asked, and I started to nod before I changed my mind and shook my head.

"Sammy… What if we can't stop it?" I asked, trying and failing to keep my voice from shaking. He nodded in understanding before pulling me into a hug. I could feel him kiss the top of my head before he pulled away so he could look me in the eyes.

"Hey, don't worry about it- we won't let that happen," he said quietly, and I managed a weak smile.

"That's better. I'm going to go check on Dean- will you be okay for a few minutes?" he asked, and I nodded slightly. He smiled and stood up from his seat a little too quickly, smacking his head on the air vents. I stifled a laugh, and he smiled at me sheepishly and rubbed the top of his head before climbing over me to get to the aisle. He walked away and I closed my eyes for a few minutes, focusing on my breathing. Sam came back with Dean in tow, and I looked up at them, their faces set in determination. I shot Dean a puzzled look, and he took a deep breath before speaking.

"It's the copilot."

"What the shit?" I hissed, and Sam chuckled at my choice of words before motioning for me to stand up.

"Come on, El- we've got to get to Amanda before the demon does," he said, and I grabbed my bag before following them to the back of the plane.

We headed back as quickly as we could, getting a few strange looks as we walked closer to the open curtain. Amanda heard us coming and turned to look at Sam and Dean in confusion, not noticing me hidden behind them.

"Can I help you?" she asked, and I realized that she couldn't see me. I poked Sam in the side and he spun around to look at me, surprised, and I looked at him pointedly. Realizing the issue, he quickly stepped to the side, and I locked eyes with Amanda, who smiled in recognition.

"Oh, hi. Flight not too bumpy for you, I hope."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about," Dean said, and Sam reached over to close the curtain before turning back to face Amanda, who was starting to look worried.

"Um, okay. What can I do for you?" She asked, focusing mostly on me. I shook my head and sighed before stepping forward and speaking in a low, quick voice.

"This is going to sound insane, but we don't have time to give you the whole speech and everything…" I trailed off, not really knowing what to say. Sam put his hand on my shoulder and stepped forward, and she turned to look at him, confused.

"Look, we know you were on flight 2485," he said carefully, and I could see the remains of her smile disintegrate into horror.

"Who are you guys?" she asked shakily, slowly stepping away from us.

"Trust me, that's the least of your worries right now," I said, and slowly held out my hand to her to keep her from moving away.

"We know something brought down that plane, and it wasn't mechanical failure," Sam said, before Dean interjected.

"We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now," Dean said, looking at her pleadingly. She stammered out an apology and tried to brush past us, but I reached out and gently put my hand on her shoulder, and she spun around to look at me, terror in her eyes.

"We're not going to hurt you, okay? I promise. But you need to listen to us," I pleaded, and although she still looked scared, I felt her relax a little. Once I saw that she wasn't going to try to leave again, I took my hand off her shoulder and gave her a small smile.

"The pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert? He's dead," Dean chimed in, and she turned to look at him in shock.

"Wait, what? Chuck is dead?" she asked, and Dean nodded at her before continuing

"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

"I-"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too." Sam interrupted, speaking as calmly as he could.

"Amanda, you have to believe us," Dean said, looking at her imploringly. She paused for a second to collect herself before she looked up at us, eyes wide with understanding.

"On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes," she said slowly, and I nodded in encouragement.

"They were black, weren't they?" I asked quietly, and she nodded her head, surprised. Then she looked at all of us and stood up a little straighter.

"I don't understand- what are you asking me to do?"

"We really need to talk to the copilot... Do you think you could bring him back here?" I asked carefully, and she looked at me for a second before she responded.

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"There's no time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay? Dean asked, and she crossed her arms in frustration.

"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot-"

"Do whatever it takes", Sam interrupted. "Tell him there's something broken back here- whatever will get him out of that cockpit." She scoffed and stepped closer to Sam, unfolding her arms.

"Do you know that I could lose my job if you-"

"Okay, well you're going to lose a lot more if you don't help us out," Dean interrupted sharply, and Amanda hesitated for a second before agreeing, and making her way to the door of the cockpit.

I put my bag on the floor and bent down to dig through it. I tossed the bottle of the holy water to Sam, who deftly caught it, and then passed the duct tape to Dean, who grinned and slid his hand through the roll before handing John's journal to Sam. He quickly flipped to the right page just as the copilot entered, looking slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" He stepped forward, and I crept up behind him and kicked the back of his knee. He crumpled onto the floor, and Dean leaped at him. He pinned him down and put a strip of duct tape over his mouth while Amanda watched in horror.

"Wait, what are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him," she protested, stepping as far away from Dean as she could.

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean smirked, and held out his hands so Sam could toss him the holy water. He caught it and quickly opened the bottle, splashing the contents onto the pilot's skin. It started to sizzle, and Amanda gasped in horror.

"Oh my God! What's wrong with him?"

"Look, we need you calm. We need you outside the curtain," Sam said, and Amanda stuttered in protest before he cut her off. "Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that?" he asked, and she froze. "Can you do that? Amanda?" Sam asked again, and she nodded before slipping through the curtain.

"Let's do this thing. Sam?" I looked at him and motioned that he should start the exorcism. He began to chant in Latin, but was interrupted when the demon somehow managed to break free. It hit Sam and Dean and darted towards me. I managed to tackle it and slammed it to the floor, putting all of my weight on its stomach and effectively pinning it down. Sam continued, but not for long- the demon managed to throw me off and rip the duct tape off of its mouth. He then grabbed Sam by the collar before anyone could tackle him again, and got right in his face.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming- even now, she's burning!" the demon growled, and Sam froze. Dean pulled the demon off of him and punched it in the face, knocking it to the ground. He pinned the demon down again with help from Sam, but it managed to kick the journal up the aisle.

"I got him," Sam said, gritting his teeth, and I gave the demon a quick kick to the ribs for good measure before it managed to escape the copilot's body and disappear into a vent. I growled in frustration, and the two brothers stopped pinning down the copilot's body.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked.

"The damn thing is in the plane!" I cursed as Dean let out a few choice swear words.

"Hurry up- we got to finish it," Dean urged, but before Sam could continue, the plane dipped violently, sending all of us flying. I slammed against the wall and got the wind knocked out of me. I started gasping for air but found none, and was sure I was about to die when Dean grabbed me and pulled me towards where he was holding onto the exit door with one hand. He wrapped his arms around me and held onto me for dear life, screaming at the top of his lungs, as the plane continued to dive. Then a bright streak of electricity ran through the whole plane, and the plane started to level out. Once the plane was completely still, I collapsed onto the floor, still trying desperately to draw air into my lungs. Dean steadied himself for a moment before noticing that I had fallen, and quickly dropped onto his knees on the floor next to me.

"Kid, what's going on? Come on, talk to me!" he said, grabbing my shoulders and turning me so he could look me in the eyes. I tried to answer but couldn't- by then I had started sobbing. He swore ad pulled me close to his chest, stroking my hair in an attempt to calm me down.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, looking around desperately. "We need some help back here!"

Sam burst through the curtain, ready for a fight, but skidded to a halt when he saw us on the floor. He quickly sat down next to us and put a hand on my back.

"Just breathe, El. You're safe now."

After five minutes of us sitting on the floor, Dean still stroking my hair while Sam rubbed my back and spoke to me in a comforting tone, I finally managed to pull myself together. Dean touched my tear-stained cheek to get my attention, and I looked up at him, still trembling.

"You gonna be okay, kid?" he asked, and I managed a shaky smile and a nod. He brushed my hair out of my face and helped me stand up. Once he and Sam saw that I could stand by myself, we walked slowly back to our seats, both of them supporting me with an arm around my waist. Sam slid into his seat before reaching out to help me into mine, and once I had sat down, I fell into him, exhausted and still shaking a little. He put his arm around me and looked down at me with pride.

"We did it, Ella. We did it."

I smiled up at him before resting my head against his chest, and I quickly fell asleep to the steady beat of his heart.

As soon as we arrived back at the airport, we made a beeline for the exit, but were stopped by various paramedics who insisted that we needed to be checked out. Once they saw how tired I looked, they let us go, but not before wrapping a blanket around me, which I gratefully accepted. We reached the door and I turned to look at Sam, who had been oddly quiet since we got off the plane. I reached out to touch his arm, and he turned to look at me, not bothering to hide the pain in his eyes.

"You okay?" I asked softly, and he sighed before responding.

"Ella, it knew about Jessica," he said, shaking his head.

"Sam, these things.. They lie, all right? That's all it was," Dean interjected, and Sam smiled weakly at him before saying "Yeah" and turning to walk out the door. We got in the car and drove towards the airport hangar, where Jerry greeted us warmly.

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do- a lot of people could have been killed," he said, shaking the boys' hands and pulling me into a hug. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam said, and we turned to walk away. But before we got very far, Dean held out an arm to stop us and turned back towards Jerry, brows knit in confusion.

"You know, Jerry, I meant to ask you- how did you get my cell phone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months," he asked, and Jerry looked at him before nodding absentmindedly.

"Your dad gave it to me."

"What?" Sam asked, sounding just as shocked as I felt, if not more.

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked, a hard edge to his voice.

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys."

With that, Jerry turned to leave, leaving the three of us standing there watching his retreating back, speechless. I looked up at Sam and touched his arm, snapping him back to reality, and then did the same to Dean.

"Let's get out of here," I said, and we walked towards the car silently. Once we reached it, Sam and I leaned against the trunk while Dean paced in front of us. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number before walking towards us and putting it on speaker as the message bagan.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

The message ended, and Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket. We all stood in silence, Dean too stunned to say anything, Sam with his jaw set in anger, and me staring down at my feet. I didn't have the same connection with John that Sam and Dean did- they were his blood, and I was just the girl he found on the side of the road- but he was the reason I was alive. And that he hadn't bothered to call or even keep his phone in service stung. Sam, still fuming, got into the passenger seat. Dean and I followed soon after, and I grabbed my stolen pillow from the floor and curled up in the backseat with the blanket the paramedics had given me. Before long, I was asleep, and we drove off into the day to the strains of music from the car radio.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**

 **Hey everyone! :)**

 **I hope you like this chapter- it was both fun and heartbreaking to write.**

 **As always, I do not own any of the characters except for Ella, so please don't sue me.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed this story- it really means a lot to me, and I hope you continue to enjoy it!**

We spent the next couple weeks hunting various creatures and spirits: a bloody mary wannabe, a serial-killer shapeshifter, a two-hundred year old spirit with a hook for a hand, and a crap-ton of bugs due to an Indian curse- you know, the usual. Needless to say, we were all exhausted- we slept in the Impala when we could, with Dean hogging the front seat, Sam sprawled across the backseat, and me curled up on the floor between the two of them. It was actually quite comfortable, except for the time Sam tried to roll over in the middle of the night and fell on top of me. We traded spots pretty soon after that.

After we wrapped up the bug invasion case (don't even get me started on that one), we finally crashed at a motel in the middle of nowhere. I quickly claimed one of the two beds, and Sam stole the other, leaving Dean with the couch. He grumbled at first, but was asleep on his stomach before I could offer to switch with him. I turned to roll my eyes at Sam but saw that he had also fallen asleep. I sighed and got up to switch off the light before curling up in my own bed. I watched the lights of passing cars for a few minutes, and then my eyes finally closed.

I woke up the next morning and saw that Dean was already up and dressed, poking around on Sam's computer. As soon as he saw that I was awake, he closed the laptop and tossed me a brown paper bag with some sort of pastry in it.

"Morning, kid," he said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms up toward the ceiling.

"Morning," I mumbled, and yawned sleepily before shaking my head and looking back up at him from my breakfast. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long. Sam still out?" he responded, and I pushed the covers off of me and swung my legs over to the side of the bed facing Sam. Sure enough, he was still asleep. I got up and poked him in the side a couple of times before he shifted and groaned before sitting up in bed, his hair sticking out in every direction.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," I said, and grabbed some clothes out of my backpack before heading to the bathroom to take a shower. Once I got out, I pulled on my favorite jeans and a black tank top before wrestling my hair into a messy bun and putting on a tiny bit of makeup so I didn't look as tired as I felt. I opened the door to see that Dean was back on the computer, and Sam, who had somehow managed to tame his hair, was sitting on the edge of the bed absent-mindedly drawing something. I flopped down on the bed next to him and leaned over so I could see what he was doing.

"Cool tree," I said, but he didn't seem to hear me. I looked up at Dean and shrugged, and he turned his chair around so he could look at us without turning his head.

"All right. I've been cruisin' some websites, and I think I found a couple candidates for our next gig."

"What did you find?" I asked him, and got up to get a closer look. I sat down on the floor in front of him so I could lean my back onto his legs, and he handed me the computer.

"Missing trawler crew in California… oh fun, cattle mutilations in West Texas- I vote that," I said, tipping my head back to look at Dean upside-down. He laughed at how I was sitting and looked up at Sam, who was still lost in his drawing.

"Earth to Sam!" he said, and Sam looked up quickly.

"Sorry, what?" he responded, and I sighed and lowered my chin back to its normal position so I could look at him.

"Did you hear anything we just said?" I asked, and he nodded swiftly.

"Yeah, something about a fishing crew and cattle mutilations- and only you would describe dead cows as 'fun'," he commented, and I flipped him off.

"Shut up, Sammy," I said, and I could feel Dean shaking with laughter. Once he stopped laughing, he reached for the computer, and I handed it to him.

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times," Dean said, noticing that Sam was once again not paying attention. He nudged me with his knee, and I got to my feet and walked over to Sam. I waved my hand in front of his face, and he looked up at me, brows knit in confusion.

"Dude. Did you leave your brain back in Oklahoma?" I teased, and he looked back to his drawing.

"I've seen this somewhere before…" he trailed off before suddenly getting up from the bed and walking over to his duffle bag.

"Seen what?" Dean asked, but Sam said nothing and continued to rummage through his bag.

"Sam?" I asked, and he turned around and held up a picture in triumph. He then grabbed his drawing to compare the two before turning to us.

"Guys, I know where we have to go next."

"Where?" Dean asked, leaning forward in interest.

"Back home- back to Kansas," Sam said, and I looked up at him in surprise. They didn't really talk about their life there, and when they did, it was strictly business.

"Okay, random," Dean said, sitting back in his chair. "Where'd that come from? Sam showed him the photo, and I could see pain cross Dean's face before he pushed it away. I held out my hand for the photograph, and Sam handed it to me.

"That was taken in front of our old house," he said, and I looked from him to Dean, not understanding what was going on. Then I understood, and put my hand over my mouth to silence my gasp.

"Is that… _the_ house?" I asked, and Dean nodded his head tersely.

"Yeah, it is,"' he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to keep a stoic expression on his face.

"I thought it burned down," I said, looking to Sam for an answer. He shook his head.

"Not completely- they rebuilt it."

"So what's your point?" Dean said gruffly, looking up at Sam in confusion. Sam sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed again before responding.

"Look, this is gonna sound crazy, but… the people who live in our old house? I think they might be in danger."

I turned to look at Dean, not sure if I had heard Sam right, and saw that he was just as confused as I was.

"What? Why would you think that?" I asked, joining Sam on the edge of the bed. I looked at him, trying to get his attention, but he wouldn't look me in the eyes.

"Uh...it's just, um… look, just trust me on this one, okay?" he said, and got up and started to walk away. I reached out to touch his arm and he stopped, taking a deep breath before turning to face me. I noticed for the first time how tired he looked, and couldn't keep the worry out of my voice as I responded.

"Sammy, what's going on?" I asked quietly, and he sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a second before returning to sit next to me.

"Come on, man. We're not going anywhere until you tell us," Dean said in exasperation, and I nodded and put my hand on Sam's arm in reassurance. He sighed again and looked down at his lap for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak.

"I have these nightmares…"

"I've noticed," Dean said, getting up from his chair and stepping closer to Sam, who looked at him in surprise before turning to me.

"So have I," I said softly, and Sam shook his head slowly before continuing to tell us what was going on.

"And sometimes… they come true," he said, and this time it was Dean who looked up in shock. He tried to reply but couldn't quite find the right words, and turned to look at me in horror. I was just as stunned as he was, but I took a deep breath and managed to collect myself enough to speak.

"Sammy, what do you mean?" I asked, and he looked back down at his lap and laced his hands together before looking up, pain shining in his eyes.

"Ella… I dreamt about Jessica's death for days before it happened," he confessed, and I looked at him with wide eyes. I turned to Dean and saw that his eyes were even wider than mine, and he mouthed a few choice words before looking at Sam.

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence," he said, sitting down on the edge of the other bed.

"No, Dean, it's not. I dreamt about the blood dripping and seeing her on the ceiling, the fire- everything- and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it," he said, pausing to take a breath before continuing tensely, "And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house… and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man- this has to mean something, right?" He looked up at Dean hopefully, but Dean shook his head in confusion

"I don't know, Sammy," he said, and Sam quickly stood up and walked towards him. Dean turned to face him, and I quickly got up and sat down next to him so I could hear better. Sam crossed his arms tightly across his chest and gritted his teeth in frustration.

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean?" he said sharply, the pitch of his voice starting to rise. "This woman might be in danger- this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jess!"

"All right, just slow down, will ya?" Dean said, getting up and starting to pace. "First you tell me that you've got the shining, and now you say I've gotta go back home? Especially when…" he trailed off, shaking his head as if he refused to continue.

"When what?" I asked gently, and he stopped pacing and turned to face me. My heart broke a little bit seeing just how much pain was in his eyes, and I reached out to touch his arm. "Dean?"

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back to that house," he admitted quietly, and I felt his muscles tense under my hand.

"Look, Dean- we have to check this out. Just to make sure," Sam softly chimed in, and Dean took a deep, shaky breath before nodding.

"I know we do," he replied, and turned away to grab his bag and head out the door. I shot a worried glance at Sam, who seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Hey, why don't you grab your stuff and take a few minutes- I'll go talk to him," I offered , and Sam nodded thankfully. "And, Sam? I call shotgun."

He groaned, but then shrugged and gave in, and I grabbed my backpack from the floor and darted out the door before he could change his mind. I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, dropping my backpack at my feet and buckling my seatbelt. I turned to Dean, who was staring straight ahead with his jaw set and his hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline. I reached out to touch his shoulder, and he turned to me with an annoyed look on his face before realizing that it was me and not Sam. His face softened, and he managed a small smile.

"Hey, kid. You ready to go?" he asked, and I smiled back at him.

"Yeah, I'm ready. You? I replied, and Dean shook his head slightly with a strained look on his face.

"Not really," he said sadly. "But hey, that's the job for ya."

I nodded in agreement and offered him my hand, which he took, the pain in his eyes fading slightly. Then Sam finally opened the door and climbed into the backseat, sticking his head between the two of us. Dean let go of my hand to start the car, and Sam turned to look at me before raising his eyebrows at Dean.

"You guys good?" he asked, and I smiled at him and reached out to mess up his hair. He mumbled something about kicking my '5'9" ass' and leaned back into his seat, and I glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Let's do this thing."

We pulled up to the house a few hours later, and Dean steered the car next to the curb and put it in park. I looked up from the book I had been reading and leaned closer to Dean's window to get a better look. It looked like any other house on the block- had I known better, I would never have guessed that anything so horrible would happen there.

"You gonna be alright, man?" Sam asked, sticking his head between the two of us again to peek out the window.

"Let me get back to you on that," Dean answered, and got out of the car, closing the door securely behind him. I walked around the front of the car and stepped onto the curb to stand next to Dean, who was gazing sadly at the house. I slipped my hand into his, startling him out of his thoughts, and gave his hand a squeeze to reassure him that it would be okay. He smiled gratefully, and the three of us walked towards the door.

Sam knocked a few times, and after a minute, a blond woman answered. I glanced at Sam and noticed the stunned expression on his face- this must be the woman from his nightmare. Dean quickly dropped my hand to reach into his pocket for a badge, but I nudged his foot with mine before giving him a pointed look and grabbing his hand. Sam looked at me, not understanding what was going on, but after I gave him the death glare, he got the hint and pretended like this was supposed to happen.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am," I said, easily slipping into a slight Southern drawl. "My name's Ella Lawson, and this is my fiance Dean Winchester and his brother Sam. We were just drivin' by when Dean pointed out that he used to live here, and I just wanted to see where they had grown up." Dean was silent for about half a second before he slipped an arm around my waist and smiled warmly at her.

"Winchester, huh? That's funny- I think I found some of your photos the other night," she mused, and I felt Dean tighten his grip on my waist.

"You did?" he asked, and she nodded and stepped aside.

"Come on in- I'm Jenny, by the way."

She led us through the house and into the kitchen, where we were greeted by a small blond boy jumping up and down in his playpen and squeaking "Juice!" over and over in his tiny voice.

"That's Richie," she said, laughing, as she grabbed a sippy cup from the fridge. "He's kind of a juice junkie, but hey- at least he won't get scurvy," she quipped, and handed the bouncing toddler his juice. She then turned around and walked up to a young girl who was sitting at the table and working on her homework.

"Sari, this is Sam and Dean- they used to live here, and brought Dean's fiancee so she could see the house they grew up in," she told the girl, who looked up and greeted us. Dean waved at her, and Sam spoke up.

"Hey, Sari."

'So, you just moved in?" Dean asked Jenny, who was busy wiping down the table. She told us that she had moved from Wichita looking for a fresh start. She liked the town so far and said she had yet to find a job, but when Sam asked how she was liking the house so far, she turned to face us with a hesitant look on her face.

"Well, uh… all due respect to your childhood home- i mean, I'm sure you had some happy memories here…" I glanced up at Dean, who smiled weakly, and I slid my hand back into his, earning a grateful look from him as Jenny continued to talk. "...but this place has its issues."

I glanced quickly at Sam and gave him a pointed look, and he cleared his throat.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just getting old… like the wiring- we've got flickering lights almost hourly." At this, I looked up at Dean. He looked worried for a split second before his face smoothed, and he frowned sympathetically.

"Um, sink's backed up. There's rats in the basement," she said, and was about to go on before she looked at us apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No, it's fine," Dean reassured her, not looking offended at all. "Have you _seen_ the rats, or just heard scratching?"

She thought for a second and then shook her head at us. "It's just the scratching, actually."

At this, Sari looked up from her homework. "Mom?" she asked, and Jenny knelt down besides her daughter's chair.

"Ask them if it was here when they lived here," she said quietly. I shot Sam a look, and he met my eyes, raising one eyebrow before turning back to look at her.

"What, Sari?" he asked calmly.

"The thing in my closet."

Sam glanced at us with wide eyes, and I may or may not have said a few choice words in my head. Jenny turned to her daughter and looked her in the eyes, speaking in a soft, calming voice.

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets. Right?" she said, looking up at the two brothers.

"Right, no," Sam said hurriedly, and Dean agreed with him before giving Jenny a puzzled look. She explained that Sari had had a nightmare the other night and that she was still a little shaken up about it, and we nodded in understanding. Sari, however, was not satisfied with this explanation, and quickly protested.

"I wasn't dreaming! It came into my bedroom, and it was on fire!" she insisted, and I looked at Dean with wide eyes. He managed to say something about needing to leave for an event before pulling me away from them and through the door. I heard Sam apologizing for having to leave so quickly, and he exited the house a moment later. The brothers started walking towards the car, and I followed closely behind, listening to their conversation.

"You hear that? A figure on fire!" Sam said in a loud voice, and I quickly shushed him and pointed to a pedestrian walking his dog. He waved sheepishly at the man before turning back to us, his eyes wider than they had ever been before.

"And you're sure that Jenny was the woman in your dreams?" I whispered as loud as I could, and he nodded.

"Yeah, I'm sure. You hear what she was talking about? Flickering lights, scratching noises-"

"Both signs of a pissed-off spirit," I interrupted, and Sam nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out your weirdo visions are coming true," Dean grumbled, and promptly spun around to glare at me- I had literally kicked his ass. Sam, somehow not noticing what was going on, spun around to face us with a panicked look on his face.

"Forget about that for a minute- do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jess?"

"I don't know, Sam!" Dean barked, and I rolled my eyes at both of them.

"Hey, if you two dumbasses want to stand in the middle of the road to have this conversation, be my guest- I'll be in the car." They both looked at me in shock, and Dean opened his mouth to say something before realizing that he was, in fact, standing in the middle of the road. He followed me to the car and climbed in the driver's seat, and I ran around the the passenger's seat before Sam could get to it. He sighed and looked through Dean's open window.

"I mean, has it come back, or has it been here the whole time?"he asked, and Dean sighed in exasperation.

"Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam- we don't know yet! Now get in the damn car before you get run over!" Dean snapped, but Sam held his ground.

"Those people are in danger, Dean! We have to get 'em out of the house!" he hissed, and was about to turn around before I leaned over Dean to grab his arm.

" And we will, Sammy," I said, and he looked at me in frustration.

"No, I mean now!"

"And how are you gonna do that, huh? You got a story she's gonna believe?" Dean chimed in, and Sam paused for a moment before sighing in defeat. He climbed into the backseat and pouted for a second before he spoke up in a much calmer tone.

"What are we gonna do now?"

I looked at him and shrugged, and we sat in silence for a moment before Dean started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"Where are we going?" Sam piped up from the backseat, and Dean looked at him through the rearview mirror.

"To the nearest gas station- Baby and I need some fuel," he replied, and Sam nodded in agreement before trying to reach forward and change the radio station. Dean smacked his hand away, and glanced over his shoulder to grin at him.

"Did you forget the rule? Driver picks the music, shotgun- or in this case, back seat- shuts his cakehole," Dean said before reaching over to turn up the station. He started singing along at the top of his lungs, and I quickly joined him, while Sam protested from the backseat. Eventually, though, he gave in, and we sped down the road towards the gas station.

Once we had pulled in and hooked up the car to the gas pump, Dean and I ran in to grab some snacks while Sam watched the car. We came back with our arms full, and Sam shook his head at us.

"Ella, how many bags of jelly beans did you buy?" he asked, and I grinned sheepishly at him.

"None of your business, health nut," I quipped, dumping my stuff in the backseat and straightening up to throw a bag of trail mix at his head. He just barely caught it, and I laughed at the look of terror on his face and leaned against the car. Dean laughed at the two of us and bit into a hot dog, which promptly spurted ketchup all over his shirt.

"Son of a bitch!" he cursed, and I rolled my eyes at him before reaching into the backseat and offering him a wad of napkins. He gladly took them and managed to wipe most of the ketchup off of his shirt before throwing the napkins at Sam, who dodged them.

"Jerk!" he yelled, and Dean and I laughed.

"Bitch," Dean retorted, smirking at Sam.

"Dicks," I added, and slid into the backseat with my snacks. After a moment, they got into the car, and I leaned forward to rest my chin on the back of the seat between them.

"If this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Dean asked us, as he finished his hot dog. Sam sighed and opened his bag of trail mix.

"We'd try to find out what we were dealing with- we'd dig into the history of the house," he responded, and Dean nodded briefly.

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened."

"Yeah, but how much do we really know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" Sam asked, and I leaned back into my seat and dug into my bag of jelly beans as quietly as possible. This was something that I couldn't help with, so I sat back and listened to them talk about it.

"Not much. I remember the fire… the heat," Dean said, pausing for a moment. "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" Sam asked, and Dean looked at him questioningly.

"Yeah, you never knew that?"

"No," Sam replied, shaking his head.

"And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was…" Dean trailed off, and cleared his throat before continuing. "Mom was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her."

"Did he ever have a theory about what did it?" I interjected, and Dean turned to look at me and shook his head.

"If he did, he kept it to himself- God know we asked him enough times." He paused for a moment, and I leaned forward again.

"So, if we're gonna figure out what's going on now…" I trailed off, and looked at Sam

"...we have to figure out what happened back then, and see if it's the same thing," he continued, and Dean nodded at both of us.

"We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors- people who were there at the time," he said, and Sam laughed quietly.

"Does this feel like just another job to you?"

Dean didn't say anything for a second, but then got out of the car. I looked up at him, confused, and he smiled weakly at me.

"I'll be right back- I gotta go to the bathroom." He walked away, and I gave Sam a worried look before silently opening my door and following him. I turned the corner and saw him facing away from me, with his phone to his ear.

"Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you get 'em." He paused to clear his throat, and I leaned against the wall, trying to stay quiet.

"But I'm with Sam, and Ella, and we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed mom or not, but-" His voice broke, and I could see that he was trying to hold it together.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, and his shoulders started to shake. I couldn't bear to see him so upset, and I started moving quietly towards him.

"So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad," he begged, and I could hear him draw in a shaky breath before he pulled the phone away from his ear. Just as he clicked the phone shut, I put my hand on his arm. He spun around and was about to start swinging when he noticed it was me, and he relaxed and hung his head, refusing to look me in the eyes. I reached up to touch his face, and he looked at me, trying his hardest to hold back his tears. Before he could say anything, I pulled him into a hug and wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could, and he buried his face into my shoulder and started to cry. We stood like that until his shoulders stopped shaking and his breath began to even out, and he rested his chin on top of my head. I pulled away and he managed a thin smile, and I reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"It's going to be okay, Dean, " I said, and once he had collected himself, I offered him my hand. He took it, and we walked back to the car where Sam was waiting. I got into my seat and Sam turned to look at me with concern.

"He'll be okay. Maybe not right now, but eventually- after all, he's got us," I said quietly, and Sam smiled thankfully at me. Dean got in the car after he put the gas nozzle back on the pump, turned it on, and we drove away to the sounds of Metallica floating through the air.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note**

 **This chapter took a while for me to write, but here it is!**

 **Quick note- the lyrics at the end do not belong to me in any way, shape or form. They're from a song called Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day (and if you haven't heard the song, I highly recommend you go check it out).**

 **As always, don't be afraid to leave me a review or let me know what you think of the story so far, and I hope you like this chapter! :)**

I had managed to get through about half a bag of jelly beans and put my hair up with a stray pen when we pulled to a stop, and I looked up to see that we had arrived at an auto repair shop. I stuck my head between Sam and Dean, and they both turned to look at me.

"What's going on?"

"Dad and a friend of his opened this garage together a while ago- if we're lucky, the guy will still be here," Sam answered, and I nodded and climbed out of the car. Sam and Dean came to stand behind me a few seconds later as I looked around to see if anyone was there. There were a few people milling around, and I turned to look at the two brothers.

"You ever meet this guy?" I asked, and they shook their heads.

"No, but we've seen pictures," Sam replied before elbowing Dean and pointing to an older, balding man who was wiping down his hands with a rag. "That's him."

We walked up to him, and he looked up from the greasy rag to greet us.

"I would shake your hand, but…" he motioned to the rag, and Dean grinned at him.

"No problem, sir. Can we ask you a couple of questions?" he said, and pulled out one of his badges. The man nodded and motioned for us to follow him.

He lead us past a couple of cars, and I saw Dean sneaking an appreciative look at a few of them before remembering the reason we were there.

"You and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together, right?" he asked, and the man nodded and set his rag down on a nearby machine.

"Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. It must be uh… twenty years since John disappeared." He turned to face us and gave us a suspicious look before folding his arms across his chest and continuing.

"So why the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"We're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of 'em," Dean responded, and the man relaxed, seemingly accepting his answer.

"Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?" he questioned, and turned to look under the open hood of a car next to him.

"Whatever you remember- you know, anything that sticks out in your mind," Dean said, and the man poked around for a second before turning his attention back towards the three of us.

"Well… he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that," he chuckled, and I stifled a grin- he was more right than he knew. "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing," he continued, and Sam and Dean nodded in understanding. "But he sure loved Mary, and he doted on those two kids."

"But that was before the fire?" Sam interjected, and the man nodded his head sadly.

"Did he ever talk about that night?" I asked, and he turned to look at me, giving me a quick once-over.

"Aren't you a little young to be a cop?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and make a snarky comment- luckily, Dean chimed in before I could say anything.

"First day on the job, sir," he said, and I shot him a grateful look. The man nodded apologetically before remembering my question.

"Not, not at first- I think he was in shock."

"Right. But eventually? What did he say about it?" Sam asked,and the man shook his head and glanced at the floor before responding.

"Oh, he wasn't thinkin' straight. He said, uh… he said something caused that fire and killed Mary."

"Did he ever say what did it?" I asked quietly, and the man looked at me strangely.

"Nothin' did it. It was an accident- an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin'. I begged him to get some help, but…" he trailed off, and Dean looked at him expectantly.

"But what?"

"Oh, he just got worse and worse."

I shot a quick glance at Dean just in time to see him shove down a pained expression, and my heart went out to him. This couldn't have been easy for him to hear, but he stayed stoic.

"How?"

"Oh, he started readin' these strange ol' books, and started goin' to see this palm reader in town," the man said, waving his hand in dismissal. To him, those must have seemed like acts of insanity or grief, but we knew better.

"Palm reader? You have a name?" Dean asked, pulling out a crumpled-up piece of paper. He dug around in another pocket for a pen, but couldn't find one. I sighed and pulled the pen from my hair and tapped him on the shoulder with it, shaking my head until my hair fell down my back. He looked at me, confused as to where the pen had come from, but took it anyway before turning his focus back to the man, who scoffed and shook his head. We thanked him for his time and started to walk back towards the car, and Dean handed me back the pen. I grabbed it from him and stuck it between my teeth so I could wind my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck. I tucked the bun into itself and stuck a pen through the whole thing just as we reached the car, and Dean looked at me in amazement.

"How did you do that?"

"It's called having way too much time on my hands and a large supply of pens," I said, smirking at him as I got into the car. He turned to Sam with a puzzled look on his face, but Sam just shrugged and slid into the passenger seat. Dean shook his head and muttered something about never being able to understand women before getting in the car and starting it.

"What now?" I asked, and Sam turned around to look at me, rolling his eyes when he saw me diving back into the bag of jelly beans.

"Now we find a payphone and search the phonebook for psychics," he said, and Dean nodded in agreement and put the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking lot and driving down the road.

It took us about 10 minutes and about 3 mumbled curse words to find a payphone that we could park by, as Dean refused to let Baby out of his sight. Sam reached the phonebook first and started flipping through it while I opened the backseat door and swung my legs out. Dean leaned on the car next to the open door and reached over it to mess up my hair. I may or may not have called him a douche-canoe and threatened to murder him in his sleep before Sam looked up at us, and we pretended like nothing had happened.

"All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town… There's someone named El Divino, there's uh, the 'Mysterious Mister Fortinsky'... Uh, Missouri Mosely-"

"Wait, say that last one again?" I interrupted, and Dean gave me a strange look. I grabbed John's journal from behind me and opened it to the first page. Sam repeated the name, and Dean leaned over to look at the journal before glancing up at me with a proud smile on his face.

"Nice work, kid."

"What?" Sam asked, not understanding what we were talking about.

"Here, look at this- first page, first sentence," I said, and passed the journal to Sam.

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth…" he trailed off, and looked up at us in understanding.

"You know, I've always wanted to go to a psychic," I commented, and the two brothers turned to look at me in surprise. "What? All that sensing energy and aura reading stuff- you don't find that the least bit intriguing?"

"You do?" Dean questioned, and I nodded.

"Yep. Always have," I replied, and pulled my legs back into the car and shut the door. I saw the two boys shrug at each other before they got into the car, and Dean turned on the radio before he pulled away from the curb.

We found her house pretty easily, and were about to knock when a man came out with a relieved look on his face, followed closely behind by a curvy black woman.

"Now don't you worry 'bout a thing- your wife is crazy about you," she said in a warm, friendly voice, and the man thanked her before walking down the sidewalk. She invited us in and closed the door behind her, turning to us and sighing.

"Poor bastard- his woman is cold-bangin' the gardener," she said conspiratorially.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked, and the woman looked at him like he was an idiot.

"People don't come here for the truth- they come for good news," she declared, and the three of us sat in silence for a moment, not sure how to respond to that. She gave us an expectant look and turned to leave the room, calling to us over her shoulder.

"Well? Sam, Dean, Ella- come on already, I ain't got all day!"

We followed her into the other room, trading wide-eyed, confused looks. We ducked under a beaded curtain, and she turned around and smiled warmly at us.

"Well, lemme look at ya," she laughed, and strode up to the two boys, who quickly pulled me behind them. I was about to hiss a few choice words at them when the woman began to speak again.

"Oh, you boys grew up handsome," she commented, and pointed a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy-lookin' kid, too." At this, Sam chuckled quietly, but immediately stopped when Dean turned to glare at him. She reached out to grab Sam's hand, and he looked down at her in confusion.

"Sam… Oh, honey, I'm so sorry about your girlfriend," she said soothingly, and I could see Sam stiffen. He opened his mouth to say something, but Missouri cut him off, putting her hands on her hips and looking up at the two boys.

"Will you two giants step aside? I think Ella can take care of herself, boys," she said pointedly, and they were so stunned that they immediately did so. Missouri walked towards me and took both of my hands in her own before smiling warmly at me.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's nice to finally meet our wayward daughter."

I froze and looked at her in shock, and I could see Sam and Dean trade worried glances before she reached up and touched my face with a gentle hand.

"Of course I know who you are, baby," she said before lowering her voice so that only I could hear. "And no, you are not insignificant. You are far more precious than you know."

"H-how did you-" I stuttered, but she cut me off by pulling me into a warm hug. I was so stunned at first that I stood like a statue, but I returned the hug and buried my face into her shoulder, and a feeling of love and acceptance washed over me. She pulled away and smiled up at me before turning back to Sam and Dean with a concerned look on her face.

"And your father- he's missing?"

They were silent for a moment, still stunned by what she had said, but Sam managed to snap himself out of it.

"How'd you know all that?" he asked incredulously, and she looked up at him with a knowing look on her face.

"Well, you were thinkin' it just now."

Sam raised his eyebrows at her before shooting a worried look at me- my hands had started to shake, and although I was trying to hide them, I wasn't doing a very good job.

"Well, where is he? Is he okay?" Dean interjected, and she frowned.

"I don't know," she admitted, and I could sense Dean tensing up next to me.

"Don't know? You're supposed to be a psychic, right?" he questioned, his voice getting louder. Missouri just scoffed and waved her hand at him before moving over to a chair by the window.

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?" she asked, sitting down in the chair. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air." With that, she motioned to a couch across from her. "Sit, please."

I saw Sam smirk at Dean and we all sat down, and I somehow ended up nestled between them.

"Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'mma whack you with a spoon!" Missouri suddenly snapped at Dean, and he froze, looking at her in confusion.

"I didn't do anything!" he protested, and Missouri smirked at him knowingly.

"But you were thinkin' about it," she said, and Sam and I both failed miserably at not smiling. Dean just raised his eyebrows at her before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs.

"Okay. So, our dad- when did you first meet him?" Sam asked, and Missouri stopped glaring at Dean to look at him, her face softening.

"He came for a reading, a few days after the fire- I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say... I drew back the curtains for him," she answered, and Dean looked up at her, his brows knit across his forehead.

"What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?" he asked, and she paused for a moment before answering.

"A little. Your daddy took me to your house- he was hopin' I could... sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam asked, and her face fell.

"I don't..." she trailed off, shaking her head sadly.

"What was it?" I asked gently, and she looked down at her lap.

"I don't know. Oh, but it was evil," she said softly, and I shot Dean a worried look.

"So… you think somethin' is back in that house?" she asked, getting up to pace around the room.

"Definitely," Sam answered, and she shook her head again.

"I don't understand..." she trailed off again before sitting back down in her chair, and I looked at her worriedly.

"What don't you understand?" I asked quietly.

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?" she mused, and Sam shook his head.

"I don't know. But Dad going missing, and Jessica dying, and now this house, happening all at once? It just feels like something's starting," he said, and Dean sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"Well, that's a comforting thought," he grumbled sarcastically, and I nodded my head in agreement.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked, and Dean looked over at me and sighed before he answered, not sounding pleased in the slightest.

"We go check out that house."

We knocked on the door, and Jenny opened it a few moments later, holding a smiling Richie on her hip.

"Sam, Dean, Ella. What are you doing here?" she asked, sounding quite flustered.

"Hey, Jenny. Um, this is our friend, Missouri," Sam said, and Missouri nodded at Jenny, who managed a weak smile in return.

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house- you know, for old time's sake," Dean added, grinning at her.

"You know, this isn't really a good time- I'm kind of busy," she answered hurriedly, and turned to go back into the house.

"Listen, Jenny, it's important-" Dean started, but was quickly silenced when Missouri smacked him on the back of the head. "Ow!"

"Give the poor girl a break- can't you see she's upset?" Missouri chided him, before turning back to Jenny with a warm smile. "Forgive this boy, he means well- he's not the sharpest tool in the shed. Just hear me out," she continued, and Dean looked back at me, stunned. I quickly wiped the smile from my face and shrugged, and Dean shook his head at me.

"What are you talking about?" Jenny demanded, and Dean turned his focus back to her.

"I think you know what I'm talking about," Missouri said pointedly, stepping forward. "You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

"Who are you?" Jenny sputtered, looking at all of us in disbelief.

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us, just a little," Missouri said soothingly, but Jenny still looked unsure. She paused to think, but eventually nodded her head and ushered us into the house, locking the door behind her. Missouri immediately walked off, and I glanced at Sam and Dean before shrugging and following her. She led all of us up the stairs except for Jenny, who took her son back to the kitchen.

Missouri walked through an open door into a purple-walled room that must have been Sari's, and once we were all in the room, she turned to look at us.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it," she announced, and I saw Sam look at her, confused.

"Why?"

"This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened."

Sam glanced at the ceiling, and I turned to look at Dean, who was pulling out his EMF meter as Missouri started to look around the room. As soon as she heard the hum of the meter, she turned around and looked at Dean skeptically.

"That an EMF?"

Dean nodded proudly, and she scoffed at him.

"Amateur."

Dean's face fell and he glared at her before turning his attention back to the EMF meter, which had started beeping frantically. He nudged Sam, who appeared to be lost in thought, and showed him the meter.

"I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom," Missouri declared, and Sam turned to look at her in shock.

"Wait, are you sure?" he asked, and she nodded. "How do you know?"

"It has a different energy, doesn't it?" I guessed, and she turned to look at me and smiled.

"Good guess- but not it, them," she said, opening the closet. "There's more than one spirit in this place."

"What are they doing here?" Dean asked, and she turned back to him, her face somber.

"They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds- and sometimes, wounds get infected," she explained, and Sam shook his head.

"I don't understand."

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist, a nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead," Missouri said sadly, and I heard Dean curse under his breath

"Wait, you said that there was more than one spirit, right?" I asked.

"There is- I just can't quite make out the second one," Missouri confirmed, and I could see Dean shaking his head, his jaw set in determination.

"Well, one thing's for damn sure- nobody's dyin' in this house ever again," he declared, and I nodded my head in agreement and crossed my arms under my chest.

"How do we stop it?" I asked, and Missouri paused to think before walking out the door. I shot Sam and Dean a puzzled look, and they shrugged and followed her with me trailing behind, looking around the room one last time.

Missouri took us back to her house and spread a bunch of herbs and roots over her dining room table. Dean and I sat down to look at everything while Sam leaned on the chair in front of him, and Missouri continued to rummage around behind us.

"So what is all this stuff, anyway?" Dean asked, and Missouri turned around and held up a bottle triumphantly before putting it on the table.

"Angelica root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, and a few other odds and ends," she replied, but Dean still looked confused.

"Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?" he asked, and Missouri grabbed some squares of fabric from a nearby cabinet and spread them on the table.

"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north, east, south, and west corners on each floor of the house."

"We'll be punchin' holes in the drywall- Jenny's gonna love that," Dean smirked, and I turned to him and rolled my eyes.

"Something tells me she'll take that over an evil poltergeist who wants to kill her and her children any day," I told him.

"She'll live," Missouri said slyly, and Sam walked around the table to lean on the back of my chair.

"And this'll destroy the spirits?" he asked, and Missouri nodded in response.

"It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor- but we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad," she said seriously, and once she had gathered all of the ingredients into bags, she tossed us each two of them. She told us to hold onto those carefully, and once we all promised we would, we drove over to Jenny's house.

After 20 minutes of convincing Jenny to take her kids to a movie and that we would be fine alone, she finally left, and we started to work. Missouri went down to the basement, Dean and I took the first floor, and Sam went to the second floor. Everything seemed to be going fine when I heard a noise behind me and turned to see a knife flying directly at Dean's head.

"Dean, duck!" I yelled, and he quickly dropped to his knees on the floor. The knife hurled itself into a cabinet and stuck there, and I ran over to Dean. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and pulled me down next to him. He knocked the kitchen table over and put it in front of us, and more knives flew at the table, stabbing themselves into the wood.

"Kid, you alright?" Dean asked frantically, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Dean jumped to his feet and extended a hand to pull me to mine before we heard a crash upstairs. He sprinted up the stairs while I made sure that the herbs were in place before darting after him. I rushed into the room and saw that Dean was trying to get an electrical cord off of Sam's neck, but it wasn't budging. I looked around quickly and saw the bag of herbs was laying on the floor, and I grabbed it, turning to kick a hole in the wall before shoving the bag inside. A blinding white light filled the room and then quickly disappeared, leaving us all stunned.

Once we were sure the spirit had gone, I ran over to Sam, who was lying weakly on the floor, and helped Dean unravel the cord from around his neck. We then pulled him up into a sitting position, and Dean pulled him onto a bear hug while I took a moment to catch my breath. Noticing that I was just sitting there, Dean reached out and grabbed my shoulder to pull me into the hug. We sat there for a few minutes while Sam caught his breath, and then we helped him to his feet and guided him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Missouri stood, waiting for us.

"You okay?" I asked her, and she nodded, looking around the kitchen. The contents of the fridge had been spilled onto the ground, and the knives were still stuck in the cabinet and table.

"You sure this is over?" Sam asked, and Missouri looked up from the fallen table to stare at him.

"I'm sure," she declared, giving him an odd look. "Why do you ask?"

"Never mind," he replied, and sighed before continuing. "It's nothin', I guess."

I was about to call bullshit on him when we heard Jenny open the front door and announce that she was home. She came into the kitchen and looked around in shock.

"What happened?"

"Oh my God, we're so sorry! We'll pay for all of this-," I quickly tried to reassure her, but Missouri cut me off with a wave of her hand. I saw Dean shoot me a glare out of the corner of my eye and turned to shrug at him, smiling sheepishly.

"Don't you worry," Missouri said to Jenny, and turned to the two brothers with a sly grin on her face. "The boys are gonna clean up this mess," she announced, and Sam immediately started picking bottles up from the ground while Dean stood there, not moving.

"Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop!"

I shot Dean an apologetic look and moved to help him, but Missouri shook her head at me before turning her head sharply to glare at Dean's retreating back.

"And don't cuss at me!" she called after him, and I heard him muttering darkly under his breath about not being a maid. Once he had gone, Missouri turned to me and smiled.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered, and she nodded in approval.

"Of course you are- you're tough as nails," she said, almost sounding proud of me. Then her smile slipped from her face, and she turned away, trying to hide it, but not quickly enough.

"What?" I asked her, failing to keep my fear from creeping into my voice. She turned to look at Sam pointedly, who had been trying to sneak closer, and he looked at her sheepishly. He mumbled something about helping Dean find the mop and left the room, and then Missouri turned back to look at me with tears in her eyes.

"Missouri?" I prompted, and she snapped out of it and shook her head sadly.

"You've been through a lot, haven't you?" she asked softly, and I looked down at my feet.

"You try to hide what you're thinking, and you're pretty damn good at it, but you can't hide it from me," she continued, and reached out to lift my chin up so she could look me in the eyes.

"You think you don't deserve this life," she said gently, and I nodded, tears pooling in my eyes. "You think you're not supposed to be alive, that your parents never loved you, and that the Winchesters only keep you around because they have to."

I looked at her in surprise, and she shook her head at me and put her hands on my shoulders.

"You're wrong, Ella."

As soon as I heard her say that, I started to sob, and she pulled me into a warm hug. We stood there for what seemed like hours. I heard Sam and Dean sneak back into the kitchen, and one of them started to walk towards us, but Missouri lifted her head. She must have given them the sharpest glare she could, because they slowly backed away. They finished cleaning the kitchen, and I could hear them standing around and whispering loudly at each other, not sure what to do. I finally managed to collect myself and pulled away from her, and she smiled at me before nodding at the two boys and leaving. They watched her leave before turning back to me, almost identical looks of concern on their faces. I managed a small smile before I spoke up.

"Can we go now?"

They quickly nodded, and we walked out to the car. I climbed into the backseat and curled up with my head on my pillow, and Dean was about to start the car before Sam interrupted him.

"Can we stay for a little bit, just to make sure they're okay?"

I heard Dean sigh and saw him glance at me in the rearview mirror before nodding reluctantly.

"Yeah, Sammy. We can stay."

Half an hour later, we were still sitting there, despite Dean's not-so-subtle protests. I had tried to fall asleep, but I was still reeling from what Missouri had said to me. Just as I sat up in defeat, I heard Dean start to talk.

"All right, so tell me again, what are we still doin' here?"

"I don't know. I just… I still have a bad feeling," Sam responded, and I leaned forward so they could hear me better.

"Sam, I'm sure they'll be fine- Missouri knows her stuff," I reassured him, but he would have none of it.

"Yeah, I know. But I just wanna make sure, that's all."

Dean grumbled something about how he could be sleeping in a real bed and slid down in his seat, but just as he closed his eyes, Sam shook him awake.

"Dean. Look!" he yelled, pointing at Jenny's bedroom window. She was looking out and screaming, pounding the glass with her fists. We all rushed out of the car and sprinted towards the house.

"You two grab the kids- I'll get Jenny!" Dean yelled over his shoulder, and we all raced up the stairs. I ran into Richie's room and scooped him up into my arms just as I heard a scream from Sari's room. I held Richie close to my chest and ran to help her, almost smacking into Sam as he carried her out. We ran down the stairs with them, and once we reached the bottom, Sam set Sari down and motioned for me to hand him Richie. I did, and he quickly handed him off to Sari.

"All right, Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don't look back!" he yelled, and was immediately slammed to the ground by some invisible force. He slid backwards into another room and crashed into a table. Sari screamed and ran outside with Richie, and I sprinted after Sam just as I heard the front door slam shut.

I ran into the kitchen and quickly kneeled down next to Sam, and was about to make sure he was okay when I was thrown back into the cabinets. I screamed, and Sam leapt to his feet and reached out to where I had fallen on the floor, but he was quickly thrown into the fridge. He stood up and ran over to help me up, but as soon as he had pulled me to my feet, we were both pinned against the wall, unable to move. Then the fiery figure walked into the room just as I heard Dean break through the door and scream our names.

"DEAN!" I managed to yell, before my head was slammed back into the wall. I could hear him breaking his way through the door as the figure moved closer, starting to materialize into the shape of a woman. Dean finally found us and aimed his shotgun at the figure, and was about to shoot, but Sam yelled out for him to stop.

"No, don't! DON'T!"

Dean spun around to look at the two of us, and then back to the figure.

"What? Why?!"

"Because I know who it is! I can see her now," Sam said, and the fire suddenly vanished. In its place was a woman with long blonde hair that flowed down her back and over the lacy white nightgown she wore. Dean slowly lowered his shotgun in shock, and I could hear his voice break as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Mom."

"Dean," she said gently, stepping closer to him. She then turned to Sam, who was still pinned against the wall. "Sam."

I looked over at Sam and saw the tears running down his face as he managed a weak smile. Then she turned to me with a confused look on her face.

"Who are you?"

I was too stunned to say anything, but Dean looked over at me and smiled slightly before turning back to his mother.

"This is Ella, Mom. She's saved our asses quite a few times."

Mary turned back to me and smiled warmly.

"Thank you for taking care of my boys."

I nodded slightly at her, and she turned back to the two boys, her smile fading. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked softly, and she looked at him sadly, but said nothing. She walked away from us and looked up at the ceiling, and Dean shot us a panicked look over his shoulder.

"You get out of my house. And let go of my son!" she demanded, and burst into flames again. The flames rushed up her body in a matter of seconds, reaching to the ceiling. Then it disappeared, and the force holding Sam and me against the wall abruptly released us. Sam managed to stay standing, but I wasn't so lucky- I almost fell flat on my face, but Dean reached out and caught me at the last minute.

"Whoa there, kid! You good?" he asked, helping me stand. I managed a weak nod at him, and Sam walked over to us. We stood in stunned silence for a moment before Sam turned to us and sighed.

"Now it's over."

Jenny was so grateful to us that she let us crash in her living room for the night. Dean immediately sprawled out on one of the couches on his stomach, and Sam shook his head at him. I leaned against the doorway and rested my head on the doorframe, and Sam made himself comfortable in an oversized recliner before noticing that I hadn't moved.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly so he didn't wake up Dean, who was already dead asleep. I shook my head at him, at a loss for words, and wrapped my arms around myself. His face softened and he extended an arm out to me, motioning for me to come sit with him. He tucked me under his arm so that my cheek rested on his chest and put the footrest up so we could lay back. I could feel him kiss the top of my head before he laid his head back and closed his eyes, relaxing into the chair. I laid there for a few moments, lost in thought, until the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my head lulled me to sleep, and I slipped into the darkness.

I woke up the next morning to find Dean standing over me, his hand gently shaking my shoulder. Sam had already gotten up without me noticing, which wasn't really surprising- I could sleep through almost anything. I looked up at Dean and rubbed my eyes, blinking sleepily up at him.

"Morning, kid. You ready to head out?" he asked, and I nodded. He helped me up from the chair and slung an arm round my shoulders, and we walked out the front door to find Sam sitting on the step. I reached out to mess up his hair as we passed him, and I could hear him grumbling as we walked away. Once we reached the car, Jenny came up to us with a grateful smile on her face and handed us an old trunk full of photos. Dean pulled out a few of them and looked them over before putting them back and closing the lid, putting the trunk in the backseat.

"Thanks for these," he said, and Jenny smiled up at him.

"Don't thank me- they're yours," she said, and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. He nodded at her, and she turned to me to pull me into a hug, startling me.

"Thank you," she whispered in my ear, and I nodded, returning the hug. She pulled away and walked back towards the house, and Dean and I turned to watch her go. Missouri had joined Sam on the steps of the house, and they talked quietly before Missouri stood up to go. I walked over to him, and he lifted his head to look at me, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes.

"You ready, Sam?" I asked him gently, and he nodded before getting to his feet and walking to the car. We got into the car and drove away in search of our next meal, and I opened the trunk to look at some of the photos. Sam turned around so he could see them too, and we looked through some of them together, him laughing at Dean's haircut and me teasing him about being such a chubby baby. Then we got to a picture of Mary leaning against the tree in front of the house and smiling off into the distance, and Sam's laughter faded.

"Hey, Sam?" I asked tentatively, and he looked back at me.

"Yeah?"

I paused for a moment, not really sure how to put what I wanted to say into words, but Sam smiled at me and nodded before I could say anything.

"She would have loved you, El," he softly replied, and I saw Dean glance at me in the rearview mirror and nod at me with a sad look on his face. Sam gave me a small smile before turning his attention back to the road, and I looked at the two of them before sitting back into my seat. We drove in silence for a while before Dean reached out and turned on the radio. A slow, familiar song came on the radio, and Dean scoffed and reached out to change the station, but I stopped him by reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Can we listen to this song?"

He was about to protest, but I saw Sam shoot him a look, and he sighed and reached out to turn up the volume. I sang along softly, and we drove along the road, listening to the lyrics in silence.

 _Summer has come and passed,_

 _The innocent can never last._

 _Wake me up_

 _When september ends…_

 _Wake me up_

 _When september ends._


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note**

 **Hey y'all! :)**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed this story, and don't be afraid to let me know what you think! I'm also always happy to answer questions about pretty much anything about the story- don't worry, I promise I won't bite.**

 **I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you like it! :)**

It was supposed to be just another hunt. We had tracked the rawhead to an old, abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, had a solid plan to take him out, and had brought all of our supplies- we thought we had it in the bag. Yeah, not so much.

We pulled up to the house late at night and got out of the car, heading around to the trunk. I took a moment to wrangle my hair into a bun and to make sure the laces on my boots were double-knotted, and straightened up to see Dean pulling out three tasers from the trunk.

"What do you got those amped up to?" Sam asked him, and Dean grinned at him and tossed him one.

"A hundred thousand volts," Dean said proudly, and Sam shook his head at him.

"Damn."

I rolled my eyes at the two of them and walked over to Dean to carefully take the taser from him, and he was about to give it to me, but pulled it back with a warning glance.

"I want this thing extra frickin' crispy- and remember, you only got one shot with this thing, so make it count."

I took it from him and shoved it in my pocket before I reached into the trunk to grab a gun and a flashlight, and watched as the two brothers did the same.

"You ready, Ella?" Sam asked, and I grinned at him.

"Let's do this thing."

We crept through the house and down the stairs to the basement, Dean making sure that I was behind him at all times. We swung our flashlights around, but saw nothing, and I was about to nudge Dean and ask if he was sure this was the right place when we heard a noise from a cupboard in the corner. We glanced at each other and moved towards it, guns at the ready. Dean held up three fingers, and Sam and I nodded at him as we pulled out our tasers. He put each finger down one by one until he showed us his fist, and Sam swung open the door. As soon as we saw the two kids crouched inside with their hands over their ears, we relaxed.

"Is it still here?" Sam whispered, and they nodded. I stepped forward and helped them out of the cupboard, and Dean bent down to talk to them.

"This is Ella, okay? She's gonna get you out of here," he said, tossing me the car keys, and I smiled at them and held out my free hand. The boy grabbed it before reaching back to take his sister's hand, and we went up the stairs as fast as we could. We made it out of the house and to the car, where I helped them into the backseat and locked the doors before standing outside of the car with my taser in my hand. A minute later, I heard Sam scream Dean's name, and my heart sunk. I wanted to run to them so badly, but I stayed by the car- Dean had a better chance of protecting himself than the kids did.

"SAM!" I yelled as loud as I could, and I heard him respond to me, sounding strained.

"ELLA! START THE CAR AND GET IN!"

I jumped into the driver's seat and started the car before getting out and climbing into the backseat with the kids. They looked up at me, terror on their small faces, and I smiled as reassuringly as I could. Then a lightbulb turned on in my head, and I reached down to dig through my backpack. A second later, I triumphantly pulled out a half-eaten bag of jelly beans and offered some to the kids before happily eating some myself. I had just eaten a pear-flavored one when Sam opened the passenger door and lifted an unconscious Dean onto the seat, strapping him in. I gasped and reached out to him as Sam got in the driver's seat and peeled away.

"What the hell happened to him?" I asked frantically, somehow managing not to swear in front of the kids.

"I don't know- when I found him, he was on the floor in a puddle of water, not moving," Sam stammered, and I reached out to feel for a pulse on Dean's neck. At that point, I let out a stream of curse words that were definitely not appropriate for the present company, and turned to Sam, trying desperately to keep my breathing under control.

"He's barely breathing- we need to go faster!" I gasped out, and Sam looked at me with a panicked expression.

"Do you want us to crash? We're already going like 80 mi-"

"SAM, I swear to god, if you don't drive any faster, I will shave your head in your sleep!" I hissed, abruptly cutting him off, and he slammed down on the brake, throwing me back into my seat. I threw off the flannel shirt I was wearing over my tank top and dabbed at Dean's forehead with one hand, checking his pulse with the other. We pulled into the hospital and swerved into a spot in front of the ER, narrowly missing a pole. As we screeched to a halt, I jumped out and carried the kids to the main entrance and left them at the door with a security guard. I then sprinted towards the ER, bursting through the doors just in time to see Dean being rushed away on a stretcher. I swore and followed them, but was quickly stopped by a security guard.

"Miss, are you family?"

"Those are my brothers!" I managed to say, and he waved me past. I took off running again and caught up to them, reaching out to grasp Dean's hand. They got him into a room and hooked him up to about 5 different things, and started CPR. My knees suddenly gave out and I collapsed into Sam, who quickly helped me out of the room. I made it about 5 steps away from Dean's room before leaning backwards and sliding down the wall to the floor, my whole body shaking. Sam quickly slid down next to me and wrapped his arms around me, and we sat there until everyone had cleared out of Dean's room. Sam jumped up and then reached down to help me stand, and we rushed into the room.

Dean lay in the bed motionlessly, his face as white as the sheets on top of him. I quickly grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to the bed and sat down before my knees could fail me again, and reached for the hand that didn't have the pulse monitor on it. I grasped his hand and leaned over to rest my forehead on the bed next to him, letting my tears fall onto the blanket instead of him. Sam pulled up a chair and wrapped an arm around me, resting his head on my shoulder, and we sat like that until a doctor came in to tell us what was going on.

I quickly straightened up and wiped my face on the flannel I had torn off earlier, and Sam got to his feet to shake the doctor's hand.

"How is he, doc?" Sam asked hopefully, and I could see the doctor's face soften.

"He's resting," he answered, and I leaned forward, expecting more.

"And?"

The doctor sighed and reached up to rub his forehead, and I could see Sam's hopeful expression disintegrate.

"The electrocution triggered a heart attack- pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart… it's damaged."

"How damaged?" I questioned, my voice breaking.

"We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point, but I'd give him a couple weeks at most, maybe a month."

As soon as he finished talking, I burst into tears and wrapped my arms around my waist, curling into myself. I could just barely hear Sam pleading with the doctor over the sound of my tears before the doctor walked away and closed the door behind him with a definitive click. I felt Sam pick me up from the chair and carry me over to the couch across from the door, and he pulled me into his chest. I curled into him, crying so hard that I was almost screaming, and I could feel Sam's arms shaking around me. I cried until I couldn't anymore, and fell asleep on Sam's tear-soaked shirt as he stroked my hair and hummed quietly.

I woke up sometime later to see that Dean was awake and flipping through channels on the small TV. I glanced around, looking for Sam, but he had left the room, and I sat up on the couch. Dean saw that I was awake and smiled weakly at me, motioning for me to come over. I walked across the room, still shaking, and was about to sit in the chair next to the bed when Dean shook his head at me. He patted the bed next to him, and I sat down as gently as I could. He still looked terrible, but at least he was awake.

"Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible," Dean quipped, and I rolled my eyes at him. Even as he literally lay dying, he was still cracking jokes. I started to tear up again, and Dean shook his head at me again.

"Hey, what do I always say about chick-flick moments?" He said softly, and I shot him the death glare.

"Dean Winchester, if you weren't actually dying, I would junk-punch you so hard," I laughed through my tears, and he chuckled. He held out the arm closest to me and motioned for me to lay down, and I gave in, curling up on my side and resting my head on his shoulder. Sam came in and smiled weakly at us, moving to sit in a chair on the other side of his bed. Dean looked over at him and clicked the tv off.

"All right, well, looks like you two are gonna leave town without me," he said in a resigned tone, and I shot up so that I was leaning on my elbow.

"Are you insane? There's no way in hell we're leaving you!" I protested, and Sam nodded his head in agreement.

"Hey, you better take care of that car. Or I swear, I'll haunt your asses," Dean threatened, and I clenched my hands into fists, trying my hardest not to scream.

"I don't think that's funny," Sam said sharply, and Dean looked at him and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on- it's a little funny," Dean retorted, and I got off of the bed and walked around to where Sam was now leaning against the wall and looking down at his feet, fighting down tears. I leaned against the wall next to him and folded my arms under my chest, looking anywhere but at Dean.

"Look, guys, what can I say. It's a dangerous gig, I drew the short straw, that's it- end of story," he said nonchalantly, and I could feel Sam go completely still next to me.

"Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options," Sam pleaded, but Dean shook his head.

"What options? Yeah- burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy, but I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it."

I couldn't bear to listen to this for another second, and ran out the door and away from his room, sprinting down the stairs until I reached where we had parked Baby. I fell against the side of the car and slid to the ground, shaking violently. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my forehead on my arms while I tried desperately to pull air into my lungs. Eventually Sam found me and sat down next to me, rubbing small circles up and down my back and murmuring over and over that we would find a way to save him. After a while, I managed to calm down, and Sam helped me stand. I walked over to the passenger side and climbed into the front seat while Sam started the car, and we pulled away from the hospital and from Dean, desperate to save him.

A few days later, the only thing we had managed to do was cover the beds with pages and pages of useless research and leave John about 50 voicemail messages. Sam hung up for the last time and tossed his phone onto the other bed, and we sat in silence, both fighting back tears. Then we heard a knock on the door, and I grabbed my knife from my boot and crept up to the door while Sam stood quietly. I opened the door and held my knife up by my shoulder, promptly dropping it when I saw that it was Dean, who looked like absolute hell.

"What the shit? What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, and was debating if slapping him across the face was really worth it when he cracked a smile.

"I checked myself out."

"What, are you crazy?" Sam sputtered, and Dean walked into the room, leaning on everything within reach. I sighed and picked up my knife, rushing over to help him and ducking under his shoulder so he could put his weight on me. He tried to push me away, but he was too weak- I also may or may not have threatened to burn all of his porn. I shoved a pile of paper off of the nearest chair and helped him sit before flopping onto the edge of the bed and crossing my legs under me.

"Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot," he grumbled, and I heard Sam choke down a laugh as he closed the door. I slid my knife back into the holster I had sewn into the lining of my boot, and saw Dean shoot me a surprised look.

"What?" I shrugged. "When you get bored, you find the nearest convenience store- I figure out ways to not die." Sam laughed out loud, and Dean was about to make a snarky comment when he realized that I had a point, and promptly shut up.

"You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it," Sam pointed out softly, and Dean shot him a glare.

"Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you two even slept? You look worse than me," he retorted, but Sam just rolled his eyes and sat in the chair on the other side of the table.

"Ella's been scouring the internet for the past three days, and I've called every contact in Dad's journal," Sam said, and Dean looked at him in surprise.

"For what?"

"For a way to save your life, Dean," I said quietly, and he turned to me and shook his head. But before he could say anything, Sam spoke up.

"One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska- a specialist." Dean rolled his eyes and tilted his head back, sighing, before looking back at us in annoyance.

"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?"

"We're not gonna let you die, period. We're going, and so help me, if you decide to pull a Houdini and end up dead somewhere, I will find you and bring you back to life so I can kill you again!" I growled at him, and he looked down at his lap sheepishly. I could hear Sam chuckling, but he quickly squelched his laughter when I gave him the death glare.

"I'm gonna go take a shower- try not to die while I'm gone," I smirked at Dean, and grabbed some clothes from my backpack. I turned the shower on and stepped in, tipping my head under the spray and letting the water run through my hair. I stood there for a few minutes, lost in thought, before washing my hair and stepping out of the shower to dry off. I pulled on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a black tank top and dried my hair a little bit with the crappy motel dryer, putting on some eyeliner and mascara to avoid looking dead. I opened the bathroom door and quickly glanced over at Dean to make sure he was okay. He was leaning back in his chair and still looked pale and weak, but he saw me looking in his direction and gave me a thumbs-up.

I started to pack up my stuff, grabbing my laptop and charger from the corner and sliding them into my backpack and throwing the papers on the bed into the trash. Sam started packing up his stuff, and once I had finished with mine, I started packing Dean's bag for him, wrinkling my nose at a few things. He started to get up to take over, but I shot him a glare and he settled back into his chair, deciding not to push me. I carried our bags out to the car and put them on the floor of the backseat, then walked back to the room to help Dean to the car. He mumbled something about not needing help, and got up out of the chair and walked towards the door. I looked back at Sam, who shrugged and jogged to catch up to him while I took one last look around the room and closed the door behind me.

We drove for a while without saying anything, while I sang along quietly to the songs on the radio that I knew. Dean and I sat in the backseat so I could keep an eye on him while Sam drove carefully, and about an hour into the trip, I looked over to check on him and saw that he was fast asleep. I reached out to make sure that he was still breathing and he stirred, not looking very comfortable. I shook him gently, and he opened his eyes slightly.

"You okay?" I asked softly, and he looked at me blearily.

"Yeah, just tired," he mumbled, and I reached out to check his pulse. I decided it was normal and looked up from my watch to see that his eyes were already closing again. I sighed and reached down to grab my pillow from the floor, brushing some crumbs off of it before putting it on my lap. I reached out and put my hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed, and he started awake.

"Wha's goin' on?" he muttered, and I patted the pillow on my lap. He smiled sleepily and rearranged himself so he laid across the backseat with his head on the pillow, quickly falling back asleep. Sam looked back at us through the rearview mirror and smiled at his sleeping brother.

"Sammy?" I asked softly, and he looked up at me.

"Yeah?"

"Dean's gonna be okay, right?"

He looked back at the road for a second, and when he looked back up at me, his eyes were filled with tears.

"I hope so, Ella. I really hope so."

I woke up the next morning when Sam pulled the car into a gas station and reached back to gently shake my shoulder.

"What the hell time is it?" I mumbled, trying to stretch without disturbing Dean, who was still passed out on my lap.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Sam laughed, and I rubbed my eyes.

"How long 'til we get there?" I asked, opening the car door and sliding out, and glanced back at Dean, who had somehow managed to stay asleep.

"An hour, maybe?" he replied, and tossed me his wallet. "You should probably grab something to eat."

I nodded and walked into the store, looking around for something edible. I grabbed two blueberry muffins for myself and some bagels for Sam and Dean, and walked over to the drinks. I got coffee for Sam and Dean and grabbed a few Diet Cokes for myself- I wasn't much of a coffee drinker- and dumped everything at the register. I paid and walked back out to Sam, handing him his coffee and a bagel before opening the backseat door and poking Dean in the side. He shot to a seating position and was about to swing in my direction when he noticed the bagel I was dangling in front of me and stopped, rubbing his eyes.

"Mornin' sunshine!" I teased, and he mumbled something about it being too early to be alive, quickly stopping when I held his drink out to him. He took it and sat up, and I dropped his bagel on his lap and walked around the car to claim shotgun. I climbed into the car and made myself comfortable, and tossed Sam his wallet through the open window before opening one of my drinks. He finished with the gas and went in to pay as I started in on my first muffin. Once he got back, he got into the car and started the engine, taking a bite from his bagel as he pulled away from the station and onto the road.

An hour later, we stopped the car next to a large tent. I looked out the window and saw a sign next to the tent that said "The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle." I reached over and smacked Sam's shoulder, and he turned to me, confused.

"What was that for?"

"A faith healer? Really?" I hissed at him so Dean couldn't hear me, and he shrugged.

"This is our only option, El," he said quietly, and I shook my head at him.

"Dude, Dean's not gonna be happy about it," I warned, and turned to look at Dean, who was asleep again. I poked his chest and he stirred, squinting at me.

"Hey, you," I said quietly, and Dean smiled at me, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

"Where are we?" he asked gruffly, and I shook my head at him and shot a death glare at Sam before getting out of the car and walking around to Dean's door. I opened his door and held out my hands, and he grabbed them so I could pull him out of the car. He stood up, wobbling a little bit, and I reached out to him, but he shook his head at me and steadied himself. As Sam got out of the car, Dean noticed the sign, and turned to look at Sam with his arms folded across his chest.

"Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor," he grumbled, and Sam shook his head.

"I believe I said a specialist," Sam corrected him, and Dean rolled his eyes at him. Sam sighed before continuing. "Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal."

"I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent!" Dean huffed, and looked like he was about to get back into the car.

"Dean, please? At least come into the tent before you decide the guy's a hack," I pleaded, and he looked over at me, his face softening.

"Fine, kid. I'll go see the guy," he sighed, and I smiled up at him. He slung his arm over my shoulder, and I reached out to wrap my arm around his waist as we walked towards the tent. As we walked, we saw a man arguing with a cop, and I caught something about having a right to protest and the man being a fraud.

"I take it he's not part of the flock," Dean quipped, earning a glare from Sam.

"When people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," Sam retorted, and Dean shot him an exasperated look.

"I mean, come on, Sam- a faith healer?" he complained, and I hip-checked him. He looked down at me in surprise, and I gave him a pointed look.

"Dean, you've got about two weeks to live, at best. You might be okay with your death, but Sam and I aren't- so you bet your ass we're going to try everything we can, even if it sounds crazy," I said sharply, and he looked down at his feet.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," Sam said softly, and Dean looked up at him, his face hardening.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on."

"How can you be a skeptic? With the things we see everyday?" Sam asked him, and Dean threw the arm that wasn't around my shoulders into the air in frustration.

"Exactly! We see them, so we know they're real!" he retorted, and Sam shook his head at him in disbelief.

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe that good is out there too?"

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people," Dean snapped, and Sam went silent.

A young, attractive woman who was walking near us turned to look at Dean and smiled at him, interrupting the conversation.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways," she said, and Dean quickly removed his arm from my shoulders and stood up straighter, checking her out. I, however, was not impressed, and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Maybe he does," Dean said slyly, and I elbowed him in the ribs. He looked at me, offended, but turned back to the woman and continued to flirt. "I think you just turned me around to the subject."

"Yeah, I'm sure," the woman said with a hint of sarcasm, and Dean reached out to shake her hand.

"I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam and his girlfriend Ella," he said, and Sam and I looked at each other in surprise. Dean shot us a pointed glare as she shook the woman's hand, and Sam reached out and grabbed my waist, pulling me to his side. I choked down a yelp and smiled at her, and she nodded at us.

"Layla. So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?" she asked, raising her eyebrow in Dean's direction.

"Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for both of us," he replied, and I could feel Sam tighten his grip on my waist. An older woman approached us and put her arm around Layla's shoulder, telling her that it was about to start. She and Layla smiled at us and moved inside the tent, and Dean was about to follow him when I aimed a sharp kick at the back of his leg. He spun around and was about to flip me off when Sam cleared his throat and motioned to the people around us. He quickly shoved his hand in his pocket and shot me a glare before turning around to walk through the opening of the tent, and Sam and I followed him as fast as we could.

The tent was full of people making their way to their seats, which were arranged in rows in front of a stage with a lectern covered in candles. I felt my shoulders tense up, and Sam squeezed my side reassuringly. I had always had issues with being in large crowds, and both brothers knew it. Dean instantly moved to stand on my other side and placed a hand on my lower back, guiding me to a seat towards the back.

"Come on," Sam said, pulling me forwards. I looked up at him in surprise, and saw Dean shoot him a similar glance.

"What are you doing- let's sit here," Dean hissed at him, but Sam shook his head and continued to walk.

"We're sitting up front."

"What? Why?" I asked nervously, and Sam looked down at me and smiled reassuringly.

"Come on, guys," he said patiently, and we kept walking forward. I could hear Dean grumbling about this being ridiculous, and I looked over at him and nodded in agreement- I didn't want to sit in the front any more than he did. Sam finally found three seats in the row behind Layla and the woman from earlier, and let go of me, moving to sit in the seat furthest from the aisle. He grabbed my arm and pulled me down next to me, and I resisted the urge to slap him. He motioned for Dean to sit on the aisle, and Dean unhappily sat down, but not before calling him something rather colorful under his breath.

On stage, a woman was helping an older man wearing sunglasses onto the stage, and I heard the room go silent. Glancing around, I noticed security cameras around the tent and nudged Dean with my elbow, nodding my chin in their direction.

"Peace, love, and trust all over, huh?" he whispered in my ear, and I nodded silently. The man and the woman finally reached the lectern, and the man, who must have been Roy, raised his hand to quiet the whispers around us.

"Each morning, my wife Sue Ann reads me the news," he began, shaking his head. "It never seems good, does it?" The crowd murmured in agreement, and he continued to speak. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act. But I say to you, God is watching."

I nudged Dean with my elbow again and rolled my eyes, and I saw him choke down his laughter as Roy kept speaking.

"It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord, who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Yeah, and into their wallets," Dean leaned over to whisper in my ear, and this time it was me who had to choke down my laughter.

"You think so, young man?"

The crowd fell silent when Roy said this, and Dean looked up at him, mortified. He muttered a sheepish apology, but the healer waved his hand in dismissal.

"No, no- don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man- we've got real sharp ears," Roy chuckled, and the crowd did the same, falling silent again when he spoke.

"What's your name, son?"

Dean hesitated and cleared his throat before responding. "Dean."

"Dean," Roy said thoughtfully, nodding to himself. "I want… I want you to come up here with me."

At this, the whole tent exploded with applause, and I could see Dean stiffen in his seat. The woman who had helped Roy onto the stage, who must have been his wife Sue Ann, moved to center stage, smiling at Dean, who shook his head.

"No, it's okay," he said, and I could see Sam shoot him a look.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, and was about to say more when Roy spoke up.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't cha?" he asked, and Dean hesitated.

"Well, yeah, but, ah… maybe you should just pick someone else?" he said over the cheers and encouragement of the crowd, but Roy shook his head. Sam looked at Dean like he was insane, and I was too stunned to say or do anything- I had frozen in my seat.

"Oh, no, I didn't pick you. The Lord did," Roy replied, and I could hear the crowd getting more and more excited.

"Get up there!" Sam said excitedly, and Dean turned to me, raising an eyebrow. I was still stunned, but snapped out of it to give him a smirk.

"You wanna know if this guy's a hack? No better way than this," I said, and he smiled hesitantly at me. I reached over to squeeze his arm, and he got up and started moving slowly towards the stage. Sue Ann rushed to help him, and led him up to the stage, standing him next to Roy. I could see the two exchange a few short remarks before Roy turned back to us and raised his hands towards the sky.

"Pray with me, friends."

The crowd lifted their arms up and joined hands, and Sam and I did the same, not wanting to look out of place. Roy stood in silence before placing a hand on Dean's shoulder and then moving it to the side of his head. I could see him murmuring to himself, and Dean suddenly sunk to his knees, Roy's hand still on his head. I shot up from my seat and was about to run to the stage, but Sam gripped my hand and pulled me back down to my seat. I watched in horror as Dean's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the stage floor, not moving.

I screamed and ripped my hand out of Sam's, sprinting towards the stage as the crowd clapped excitedly. I leaped onto the stage, Sam following close behind me, and fell to my knees next to Dean. I reached out to him just as Sam slid onto the stage next to me, pulling Dean up by the front of his hoodie. Suddenly, Dean's eyes flew open, and he gasped loudly. I clapped a shaking hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming again, and Sam helped him to a sitting position.

"Say something!" Sam pleaded, and Dean blinked groggily and looked up at us. I put my hand on his cheek and turned his face towards me, but his eyes stayed fixed on something behind Roy.

"Dean?" I asked quietly, but his eyes stayed locked on whatever he was seeing. I spun around to look in the same direction, but saw nothing, and turned back to Dean, who seemed to snap out of it and look up at me.

'E-Ella?"

I started tearing up, and Dean looked up at me with worry written across his face as he pulled himself to a seating position.

"Dean, what happened? Are you okay?" I asked frantically, and reached out to check his pulse. When I felt how strong and steady it was, I burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, panicked, and I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face.

"Sam… feel his pulse!" I demanded, and Sam reached out to do so. I saw his eyes widen, and he pulled Dean and I into a bear hug. The voices of the ecstatic crowd faded around us, and we sat on the stage floor together for a moment before Sam and I pulled away and started to help Dean stand. He waved us off and leaped to his feet, the color returning to his face. He looked at Roy, stunned, but Roy just nodded knowingly. I wiped the tears from my face as Dean jumped off the stage and extended his arm to me, which I gladly took as I stepped off the stage. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be Sam's girlfriend and reached out to lace my fingers through his. He smiled down at me and pulled me out the tent door, Dean following closely behind. He still looked stunned as we got into the car, but snapped out of it when I reached out to squeeze his shoulder from the backseat.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him, and he turned around to smile at me.

"I'm fine," he replied, and I saw Sam give him a skeptical look from the driver's seat.

"So what, you're suddenly perfectly healthy?" he questioned, and Dean rolled his eyes at him.

"I feel fine, Sam," he sighed, and Sam shook his head as he pulled away from the tent.

"Just to be sure, we're going to the doctor," he announced, and Dean groaned.

"Really?" he complained, and was about to continue when I stuck my head between the two brothers.

"Dean, a few hours ago you had a week to live, and now you feel fine? We're going," I retorted, and he looked at me and sighed.

"Fine, we'll go."

"Thank you," I said quietly, and he nodded, still looking disgruntled. I turned my head to Sam and blew in his ear, startling him, and he whipped his head around to look at me.

"Before we go see if Dean's still dying, can we get some food? I'm starving," I asked, and gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. He nodded reluctantly and turned back to the road, and I settled back into my seat.

"Works every time," I mumbled under my breath, and Dean smirked at me through the rearview mirror before reaching out and turning the radio on. He found a song he liked and turned the volume up until the sound filled the car, and started to sing along. I joined him, and I could see Sam roll his eyes at us. I leaned forward to stick my head between the two boys and deliberately messed up the lyrics, and Dean reached over to mess up my hair while Sam laughed at us. We both froze and turned to him with evil grins on our faces, and we both started tickling him at the same time. He tried his best to focus on the road and stay serious, but burst into laughter a minute later, and begged us to stop before he crashed. We stopped tickling him because we were laughing so hard we could barely breathe, and we spent the rest of the car ride laughing and making fun of each other.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note**

 **Prepare yourself for the emotions…**

 **Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story so far- I'm having a lot of fun with it.**

 **Just a quick note- I do not own the song lyrics in this chapter (you'll know them when you see them), and I do not take credit for them in any way, shape, or form.**

 **As always, thank you to everyone who has stuck with the story (It's long, I know)- it means so much to me, and I hope you continue to enjoy it just as much as I do :)**

"Well, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your heart- no sign there ever was," the doctor announced, and I looked up from my lap in shock. I glanced at Sam, who mirrored my expression, and turned to Dean, who shot me a smug smile. I stretched my arms above my head and fake-yawned, sneakily flipping Dean off. He choked down a laugh and turned back to the doctor, who was shaking her head in disbelief.

"Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, uh… still, it's strange, but it happens," she said, and scribbled some notes on her clipboard.

"What do you mean by strange?" I asked, leaning forward in my chair. The doctor turned to look at me and shook her head sadly.

"Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you- twenty-seven, athletic… Out of nowhere, heart attack," she replied, shrugging. I shot Dean a suspicious look, and he raised his eyebrows at me before turning back to the doctor and smiling.

"Thanks, Doc," he said, and the doctor nodded and turned to leave. As soon as the door shut behind her, Dean turned to us, his brows furrowed.

"That's odd," he commented, and I nodded in agreement. We both turned to look at Sam, but he just shrugged.

"Maybe it's a coincidence- people's hearts give out all the time, guys," he said, and I scoffed at him and crossed my arms under my chest.

"Coincidence, my ass!" I retorted, and Sam turned to look at Dean expectantly.

"Dude, she's got a point," Dean said reluctantly, and Sam shook his head at us in exasperation.

"Look, guys, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?" Sam protested, and both Dean and I turned to look at him like he was losing it.

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why," Dean responded, and I looked at him in concern.

"What feeling, Dean?" I asked, and Dean looked down at his lap and shook his head.

"When I was healed, I just… I felt wrong. I felt cold, and for a second… I saw someone. This, uh… this old man. And I'm telling you, it was a spirit," he said haltingly, and I sat down on the examination table with him.

"Dean, if there was something there, I think I would have seen it too," Sam began, and Dean shook his head at him. Sam ignored him and continued to speak. "I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately."

"Well, excuse me, psychic wonder," Dean said sarcastically, and I elbowed him in the side and gave him a sharp look. "You're just gonna need a little faith on this one, Sam. I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this," he continued in a more normal tone, and I nodded in agreement. Sam looked at the two of us and sighed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, alright," he said reluctantly, and I smiled at him gratefully. "So what do you wanna do?" he continued, and Dean sat up a little bit straighter.

"You and Ella go check out the heart attack guy- I'm gonna visit the reverend," he announced, and I rolled my eyes at him.

'"Don't you mean you're going to visit Layla?" I quipped, and Dean shot a look at me.

"Shut up," he grumbled, and stalked out of the room. I turned to Sam. and we both started laughing. Once we had managed to pull ourselves together, I spoke up.

"You ready to go check out the dead guy?"

Sam nodded, and we walked out to the car, where Dean had claimed the driver's seat and was blasting Metallica.

"SHOTGUN!" I yelled, and sprinted towards the car before Sam could protest. I flopped into my seat and high-fived Dean as Sam climbed into the backseat, mumbling something about us being five years old. Dean shot backwards out of the parking space and peeled out of the lot, sending Sam flying back into his seat. I heard a loud crinkling noise, and Sam reached behind his back and wordlessly held up a half-eaten bag of salt and vinegar chips. Dean and I looked at each other and burst into laughter, and Sam threw the bag of chips at my head. Dean yelled something along the lines of "you get crumbs in my car and I'll murder you in your sleep" (including a rather creative use of the f-bomb) as I laughed hysterically, my laughter quickly turning to a yelp as Dean reached over and poked me in the side. I reached over and smacked him as Sam yelled at him to focus on the road, and Dean responded by stepping on the gas, sending us flying down the (thankfully empty) street.

Dean dropped us off outside of the dead guy's former gym, and I took a moment to wrestle my hair into a bun, muttering darkly about chopping it all off someday. As soon as I looked more presentable, Sam and I walked into the gym and showed our FBI badges to an employee, who lead us through the gym and told us what he knew.

"I'm telling you, he seemed healthy. Swam every day, didn't smoke… So a heart attack just seemed', well, bizarre," the employee said as we followed him through the tiled hallway to the pool.

"And you said he was running, right before he collapsed?" Sam asked, and the man nodded quickly.

"Yeah, he was freaking out- he said that something was, uh… was after him," he responded as we stopped by the side of the pool, and I shot Sam a look.

"Did he say what?" I asked politely, and the man shook his head, frowning.

"Well, thin air is what- I mean, it wasn't anything," he said, and Sam and I thanked him and turned to leave. Just as we were walking out, I noticed that the clock was frozen, and nudged Sam before I turned back to the man.

"Sir, I think your clock's busted," I commented, and the man sighed and shook his head.

"Yeah, we, uh, can't get it workin'- it just froze at 4:17," he said, and I shot Sam a look. He looked at me in confusion for a second before understanding crossed his face, and he turned to look at the employee.

"Is that the same time Marshall died?" he asked quietly, and the man looked at him with wide eyes.

"How'd you know?"

Sam and I quickly excused ourselves and went back to the motel room, where I immediately flopped down on the floor and pulled out my laptop. Sam sat at the table and rested his forehead on his hand while I did some digging.

"Sam?" I asked quietly, and he looked up at me with concern. "You need to see this."

I showed him what I had found, and we sat in stunned silence until Dean opened the door, throwing his keys on the other bed.

"What'd you find out?" he asked, his smile falling when he noticed the look on my face. "Kid, what's wrong?"

"Dean, I'm so sorry," I said, my voice breaking as a tear fell down my cheek. He pulled off his jacket and threw it onto the bed before kneeling down next to me, wiping the tear away.

"Ella, what's going on?" he asked softly, and turned his head to look at Sam, who sat silently at the table, looking down at his lap.

"Marshall Hall died at 4:17," Sam said somberly, and Dean's eyes widened in shock.

"The exact time I was healed," he said, and I nodded sadly and wiped my eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed- six people over the past year- and cross-checked them with local obits… Dean, every time someone was healed, someone else died," I said, choking down tears. "And the victims died from the same symptom that Roy was healing."

The room fell silent- we were all speechless. I looked down at my lap and inhaled shakily, and eventually Dean looked up from his lap and spoke.

"So someone's healed of cancer, and someone else dies of cancer?" he said slowly, and Sam nodded.

"Somehow, LeGrange... is trading one life for another," he replied quietly, and Dean stiffened suddenly.

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean said quickly, and looked at us in shock. "So Marshall Hall died to save me?"

I managed a slight nod and looked up at the ceiling, trying my hardest not to cry.

"Dean, the guy probably would have died anyway, and someone else would have been healed," Sam pointed out, sounding just as upset as I felt. Dean shot to his feet and started pacing, his jaw set.

"You never should have brought me here," he said angrily, and I got to my feet and reached for his arm.

"Dean, we were just trying to save your life- we didn't know," I pleaded, and Dean pulled his arm out of my grasp and turned away from me.

"Some guy is dead now because of me!" he snapped, and I backed away from him, my hands starting to shake.

"The thing I don't understand is how Roy's doing it- how's he trading a life for a life?" Sam questioned, and Dean spun around to face him, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Oh, he's not doing it," he growled, and I continued to back away from him. "Something else is doing it for him."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked carefully, and I clapped a hand over my mouth, realizing what Dean meant.

"That old man you saw… you think he's doing it?" I asked, and Dean nodded at me, the anger in his eyes fading slightly.

"I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew it," he confessed, and Sam looked at him in confusion.

"You knew what? What are you talking about?" Sam questioned, leaning forward in his chair.

"Sam, there's only one thing that can give and take life like that," Dean replied ominously, and I realized what he was talking about.

"We're dealing with a reaper, aren't we?" I asked, and Dean nodded at me. Sam sat back in his chair and was silent for a moment before he reached for his laptop and began typing frantically. I grabbed mine from the floor and opened up my notes on different creatures, finding the reaper near the bottom. I looked through what I had, looking up when Sam spoke.

"You really think it's the Grim Reaper? Like angel of death, collect your soul the whole deal?" he asked skeptically, and Dean looked up from the papers he had strewn across the table.

"No no no, not the reaper. A reaper," Dean replied. "There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth- it goes by a hundred different names, and it's possible that there's more than one of them."

"Some people believe that they were created by the archangel Ezekiel to help transport souls from the physical world into the spiritual world, others say he's the Greek god of non-violent death… There's all sorts of lore on these things," I chimed in, and Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"But you said you saw a dude in a suit," Sam said, giving Dean a pointed look.

"What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?" Dean retorted, and I laughed.

"Hey, check this out- remember that clock?" I asked, and Sam nodded, leaning forward in interest. "Reapers can stop time. And apparently you can only see them when they're coming for you- which is why Dean could see it and we couldn't."

"Maybe," Sam mused, not looking convinced.

"There's nothing else it could be, Sam," Dean declared, and I nodded in agreement.

"But how's Roy controlling the thing?" I piped up, and Sam suddenly sat up straighter and reached over to dig through the papers in front of Dean, mumbling something about a cross. He finally found what he was looking for and held it out to Dean, who leaned over to grab it.

"A Tarot?" Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam, and he nodded in response.

"It makes sense. A tarot dates back to the early Christian era, right? When some priests were using magic, and a few of them veered into the dark stuff?" Sam questioned, and I nodded.

"Necromancy," I said thoughtfully, and Dean shot me a strange look. "What? I read weird stuff when I'm bored." He shook his head at me, before returning his attention to the task at hand.

"So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?" he asked, and Sam nodded at him. I leaned back in my chair and pulled the hair tie from my bun, shaking my head so my hair fell down my back.

"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind- it's like putting a dog leash on a Great White," Sam commented, and I laughed at the mental image. Dean cracked a smile, and got up to put his cup in the sink, leaning against the cabinet.

"Okay, then we stop Roy," Dean said decisively, and Sam furrowed his brows.

"How?"

"You know how," Dean replied, and I looked at him with wide eyes.

"What the shit? Dude, we can't just kill him!" I protested, and Dean looked at me in disbelief.

"Ella, the guy's playing God, deciding who lives and dies- that's a monster in my book," he said pointedly, and Sam shook his head at him.

"We're not going to kill a human being, Dean. We do that, and we're no better than he is," Sam said thoughtfully, and I pushed my bangs out of my face to give him a grateful look.

"Okay, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill Death- any bright ideas, college boy?" Dean asked in a rather snarky tone, and I shot him a look before turning back to my computer.

"Well, if Roy's using some kind of black magic spell on the reaper, we gotta figure out what it is and how to break it," I mumbled, and started to gather my stuff.

"Going somewhere?" Dean asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"I'm going to go break into Roy's house and look for a spellbook. Would you like to join me?" I asked sarcastically, and swung my backpack onto my shoulder, grabbing the car keys as I headed towards the door. Just as I was about to close the door, I heard Dean speak up.

"Are we sure she's not related to us?"

"Yeah, pretty sure," Sam said, and I turned around to walk backwards and held my arms out to the side, grinning at them.

"So?" I called out to them, and they walked towards me, shaking their heads. I unlocked the car and tossed the keys to Dean, who caught them with one hand. I climbed into the backseat and wedged my pillow between my back and the car door, stretching my legs out so that they touched the other side of the car. The two brothers got into the car and closed their doors at the same time, and as Dean started the car, Sam tossed me the bag of chips he had thrown at my head earlier. I happily caught it and dug in, holding some out to Dean. He leaned over and grabbed one directly from my hand with his teeth, making me laugh, and Sam took the rest. We shared the rest of the bag, and the car was filled with the sound of crunching chips as we sped down the road.

We finally pulled up to Roy's house and the tent, and I grinned at the boys before sneaking out of the car and towards Roy's house, Sam following closely behind. We ran up the porch steps as quietly as we could and flattened ourselves against the wall around the corner, watching Sue Ann and a dark-haired man help Roy towards the tent. Sam and I crept along the side of the house to check the windows, and found one that wasn't locked. Sam climbed through the window first and then reached out to help me, and once we were both in, we began searching the house.

We both made a beeline for the bookcases and started digging through it. I slid my fingers along the spines of the books, reading the titles- nothing unusual there.

"Hey, Ella? Come take a look at this," Sam asked from across the room, and I walked over to him. He tapped the empty space in front of the Encyclopedia of British History, and I saw that it was the only book without dust on the shelf in front of it. He grabbed the book and began to flip through it while I took a look at the bookcase. Then I noticed a smaller book against the back of the shelves, and reached out to grab it.

"Sam! Check this out," I whispered, and handed him the book. He opened it and pulled out some loose newspaper articles, looking them over before handing them to me. He then started flipping through the book, looking up a minute later when I gasped.

"Oh, this isn't good," I murmured, and pulled my phone out of my pocket to call Dean.

"What have you got?" he answered.

"Dean, Roy's choosing people he views as immoral. Marshall Hall was an openly gay teacher, and that female victim? She was an abortion rights advocate. And I know who's next on his list- remember that protestor?"

"Son of a… the guy in the parking lot?" he asked in a panicked tone, and I nodded at Sam, who tossed me the book and started climbing back out the window.

"Yeah. We got him- don't let Roy heal anyone, alright?" I asked, and he agreed and hung up. I patted myself down quickly to find somewhere to stuff the book, and quickly realized that my jeans' pockets would only fit about half of it. I swore under my breath and shoved it down my shirt, scrambling out the window. I nodded at Sam, and we ran to the parking lot, me awkwardly holding the book against my chest. We looked around, and screeched to a halt when we heard a yell from the other side of the lot.

I spun around and immediately sprinted towards where the sound had come from, Sam hot on my heels. We reached Wright just as he yelled again, and I reached out to grab his shoulder.

"Where is he?" I asked frantically, and the man pointed at nothing.

"Right there!"

Sam spun around to look at where he was pointing, and shrugged at me before grabbing Wright's arm and pulling him away.

"Come on!" he urged, and my phone rang in my pocket. I grabbed it and answered it.

"Dean?"

"I did it- I stopped Roy," he said triumphantly on the other end. I flashed a thumbs-up sign at Sam and Wright. They relaxed for a second, but then Wright screamed and fell to the ground.

"NO!"

"Damn it- Dean, it didn't work! The reaper's still coming!" I cursed, and Dean made a surprised sound.

"I'm telling you, it didn't work- Roy must not be controlling this thing!" I yelled into the phone.

"Then who the hell is?" he yelled, and abruptly fell silent.

"DEAN?" I yelled, and I heard him swear on the other end.

"Sue Ann," he hissed, and hung up the phone.

"Son of a bitch!" I cursed, and shoved my phone in my pocket. "Sam, it's Sue Ann!"

I fell to my knees next to Wright, who was now gasping for air and turning white. I shook him, but his eyes were fixed on something behind him. Suddenly, he stopped gasping and fell back, the color returning to his face.

"Sam!" I yelled, and he rushed over to help him up.

"I got you," he said, and Wright slumped into him, thanking God.

Then we saw Dean being shoved through the entry to the tent by two cops, who he shook off as soon as he got outside. Sue Ann was following close behind, and turned to talk to him before walking away. The cops shoved him away, and we saw Layla step in front of him. They spoke quietly before she walked off in tears, and Dean turned to walk over to where Sam and I were waiting. We overheard Roy say something tonight about having a private session to heal Layla just as Dean angrily brushed past us and stormed over to the car. Sam and I glanced at each other worriedly and rushed over to the car, getting in just as Dean started the engine. We pulled out of the lot and drove towards the hotel, none of us saying a word during the entire trip.

"So Roy really believes," Sam commented later as he sat on the bed in the hotel room. Dean had been pacing the room ever since we had arrived, and I watched him from where I was curled up on my side on the other bed, resting my head on a stack of pillows.

"I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing," Dean sighed, and I suddenly remembered the book from earlier, which I had tossed to Sam as soon as we got into the car.

"Sam, you still have that book?" I asked, and he nodded and dug into the pocket of his jacket.

"We found this hidden in their library. It's ancient- written by a priest who went dark side," Sam explained, and handed the book to Dean.

"And get this- there's a binding spell for trapping a reaper in there," I added, and Dean shook his head in disbelief.

"Must be a hell of a spell."

"Yeah, that's one way to put it," I said, sitting up and stretching my arms over my head. "You gotta build a black altar with some seriously messed-up stuff- bones, human blood… For a preacher's wife to cross a line like that? Damn."

"She was desperate- her husband was dying, and she didn't have anything to save him," Dean said, and I sighed and pulled my hair into a ponytail.

"Let me guess- she was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy?" I asked, and Sam nodded at me.

"Cheating death- literally," he replied, and I saw Dean shoot him a puzzled look.

"Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?" Dean wondered.

"Maybe she liked playing God a little too much," I grumbled, and flopped back down on the bed. "We gotta break that damn binding spell before she kills someone else."

We pulled up to the tent with the Impala's lights turned off, and rolled to a stop. It was raining, but we could see that there were still cars parked near the tent.

"That's Layla's car… she's already here," Sam said quietly, and Dean nodded sadly.

"Dean…" I said quietly, and reached out to put my hand on his shoulder.

"You know, if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now," Dean said seriously, and I squeezed his shoulder.

"Dean, don't," I pleaded softly, but he shook his head again and turned to look back at me. "If she's not healed tonight, she's gonna die in a couple months."

"What's happening to her is horrible, but what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself, Dean- you can't play God," Sam said quietly, and Dean turned to face forward. He sat for a moment without speaking, and then silently got out of the car. Sam and I followed as quietly as we could as he crept up to the tent and peeked inside. We saw a small group gathered around the stage where Roy was speaking, including Layla and her mother.

"Where's Sue Ann?" Dean whispered, and I shook my head.

"House," Sam replied, and we started moving towards it.

"You two go find Sue Ann- I'll catch up," Dean hissed, pushing Sam and I towards the house and jogging away from us.

"Where the hell are you going?" I whisper-screamed, but Dean ignored me. I rolled my eyes and crouched down behind a car when I saw some cops coming down the front stairs, pulling Sam down next to me.

"Hey! You gonna put that fear of God in me?" I heard Dean yell, and the cops dropped the coffees they were holding and ran at Dean, who took off. I glanced at Sam and shrugged, and as soon as they had disappeared from sight, Sam and I sprinted towards the house and up the stairs. We peeked through all of the windows and saw only darkness, and were about to turn back in confusion when I saw light shining from the cracks of the outside hatch to the basement.

"Hey!" I whispered at Sam, and pointed to the light. We darted towards the entrance and Sam quietly opened the door, sneaking into the basement. I followed a step behind him, holding on to the back of his shirt, and we reached an altar lit with the warm glow of candlelight. It was strewn with all sorts of gross crap- parts of dead animals, blood, some weird-looking horns, and a few other things that I never want to think about ever again. A photo of Dean rested in the middle, his face crossed out with what looked like blood. I was about to make a snarky comment about Sue Ann really needing to find a better hobby when we heard a voice behind us.

"I gave your brother life, and I can take it away."

We spun around and saw Sue Ann standing behind us.

"Lady, you really should have taken up knitting or something," I growled, and turned back to the altar. I kicked the table as hard as I could, sending its contents flying across the room, and Sam leapt for Sue Ann, but she had already run up the stairs and slammed the hatch behind her. We heard her securing it with a beam, and Sam reached up to push against it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Children, can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your brother is wicked, and he deserves to die, just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will," she called to us, and I called her some very colorful names at the top of my lungs.

"Goodbye, Sam and Ella," she chirped, way too happy about the situation. I screamed one last profanity-filled name at her before rushing over to help Sam, who was looking around the room. He grabbed a block of wood from the wall and smashed out a small boarded up window, boosting me up so I could crawl through before following closely behind. We sprinted towards the tent just in time to see Dean heading the same way. He stopped and turned around to look behind him, and the line of lights marking a path to the tent started to go out one by one.

"DEAN!" I screamed, and ran towards him as he fell to his knees. Sam ran over to where Sue Ann was standing, holding up the cross around her neck and chanting in another language. I slid to the ground next to Dean just as Sam ripped the cross from around her neck and threw it aside, something shattering. Dean fell onto his side, gasping, and I reached out to grab his shoulder.

I saw Sue Ann fall to her knees beside the broken cross, and she looked up at Sam in horror.

"My God, what have you done!" she wailed, and Sam glared down at her.

"He's not your God," Sam spat, and I resisted the urge to cheer. I helped Dean to his feet, and we ran to the car. We looked back and saw Sue Ann looking up at nothing, and she rose, turning to run, but fell to her knees, and after a moment, she fell to the ground and convulsed before going still. We made it to the car just as Sam did, and he looked over at Dean.

"You okay?" Sam asked, and Dean shook his head, exhausted.

"Hell of a week," he grumbled, and I laughed.

"Yeah, that's for sure." I turned to Sam , who nodded in agreement. "Okay, can we go now? I'm starting to look like that girl from The Ring," I joked, motioning to my dripping wet hair. Sam and Dean laughed, and Dean unlocked the car. I dove into the backseat and pulled my soaked black military jacket and plaid shirt off, making a face at them and dumping them into one of the empty shopping bags I had stashed under the seat. Thankfully, my black tank top was mostly dry, although it wouldn't be if my hair was down. I quickly pulled it up into a bun and secured it with a hair tie, and laughed at Sam, who looked like a wet dog. As Dean drove out of the lot, he silently reached out to turn on the radio. Sam glanced over at him and was about to say something, but Dean reached out and turned the volume up, effectively cutting Sam off. We drove without saying anything until we reached the hotel, and as soon as we walked through the door, Dean went to go shower. I stepped out of the room to make a quick call, and walked back into the room after a few minutes. I let my hair down and started to get rid of some of the tangles, and just as I pulled my fingers through the last one, Dean came out of the bathroom in dry clothes and wordlessly sat down on the bed, staring at nothing.

"What is it?" Sam asked him, but Dean just shook his head, refusing to look at him.

"Nothing."

Sam waited for a few seconds, and when he spoke again, it was in a much gentler tone.

"Dean, what is it?"

"We did the right thing here, didn't we?" Dean asked hesitantly, and I walked over to him and sat down on the bed next to him, pulling my hair to the side and resting my head on his shoulder.

"Of course we did," Sam said softly, and Dean hung his head.

"It doesn't feel like it."

I reached out to slip my hand into his, and he looked up at me and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"I got it," I said, squeezing Dean's hand before pulling away and walking over to the door. I slowly opened the door and poked my head out, relaxing when I saw that it was just Layla.

"Hey, Layla," I said, smiling warmly at her. "Come on in."

"Hey," she said, smiling back at me as she walked into the room, and Dean shot to his feet.

"How did you know we were here?" he asked, looking completely confused. He glanced over to the door where I was standing, and I gave him a sheepish grin. Sam looked over at me and choked down a laugh before he walked over to me and wrapped his arm around my waist, looking down at me.

"Hey, how about I buy you a soda?" he said, and mouthed "just go with it".

"Yeah, that sounds great," I said, and waved at Layla before Sam and I left the room. As soon as the door shut behind us, I turned to Sam and laughed.

"Real subtle, Sammy," I said teasingly, and he grinned at me, his arm still around my waist. "Are you actually going to buy me a soda, or did you just say that to give them some alone time?"

He laughed and let go of me, and acted like he was thinking about it before he grabbed my hand and ran to the soda machines, pulling me along. I laughed and picked up the pace, and we skidded to a halt in front of the machines. Sam tossed me his wallet, and I dug through it for a couple dollars before throwing it back to him a little harder than what was necessary. He dove to catch it as I picked out which drink I wanted, waiting to open it so I didn't spray soda everywhere. As soon as he had gotten his drink, I grabbed his hand again and we ran back to the hotel room just as Layla walked out. She waved at us and walked to her car, and we waved as she pulled away. We stumbled back into the room, laughing, and saw Dean still staring at the door. I grabbed Sam's soda and put both drinks on the table before I tossed him his bag and jerked my chin towards the shower. He got the hint and walked into the bathroom, and as he closed the door, I turned back to Dean, who was still frozen in place. I reached up to touch his face, pulling him out of his trance, and he looked down at me sadly.

"You okay, Dean?" I asked gently, and he managed a weak smile. I stood up on my toes and threw my arms around his shoulder, and I could feel him wrap his arms around my waist and hold me tightly. He buried his face in my shoulder, and we stood there for a while until Sam came out of the bathroom. I pulled away and smiled at him before grabbing my bag and heading to the shower, closing the door quietly behind me. As I got in the shower, I could hear the two brothers talking in low voices, and by the time I was almost done washing my hair, their voices went silent, and I smiled. I got out of the shower and threw on a comfortable sports bra, one of my old tank tops, and some pajama shorts, and quickly braided my hair down my back. When I came out of the bathroom, I saw that Sam was fast asleep under the covers in one bed, and Dean was laying on his back on top of the covers and staring up at the ceiling in the other bed. I started to walk towards the couch, but stopped when I heard Dean call out to me softly.

"Ella?"

I turned to look at him, and he sat up in bed and looked at me sadly.

"Do you think- can you-" he stammered, and I smiled at him. I walked over to him and pulled the covers down on the other side of the bed, rearranging the pillows so I could sit up comfortably. I climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over my lap as Dean moved so his back was against the headboard, and once I had stopped fixing the blankets, I put my arm around his shoulders, and he leaned his head on my shoulder, closing his eyes. I started singing to him softly in a clear, sweet voice, and I felt him sigh happily as he recognized the song.

 _Hey, Jude, don't make it bad_

 _Take a sad song and make it better_

 _Remember to let her into your heart_

 _Then you can start to make it better..._

At this point in the song, I heard him yawn loudly, and he pulled away from me so he could lay down. Once he had made himself comfortable, he looked up at me expectantly, and I smiled down at him and continued the song, even after his breathing slowed and evened out, and he fell asleep with a small smile on his face.

 _Hey, Jude, don't be afraid_

 _You were made to go out and get her_

 _The minute you let her under your skin_

 _Then you begin to make it better_

 _And anytime you feel the pain,_

 _Hey, Jude, refrain_

 _Don't carry the world upon your shoulders_

 _For well you know that it's a fool_

 _Who plays it cool_

 _By making his world a little colder_

 _Nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah_

 _Hey, Jude, don't let me down_

 _You have found her, now go and get her_

 _Remember to let her into your heart_

 _Then you can start to make it better_

 _So let it out and let it in,_

 _Hey, Jude, begin_

 _You're waiting for someone to perform with_

 _And don't you know that it's just you,_

 _Hey, Jude, you'll do_

 _The movement you need is on your shoulder..._


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note**

 **Hey everyone! :)**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter, and don't be afraid to let me know what you think :)**

We spent the next couple of months on the job, dealing with a racist vengeful spirit, a guy with telekinesis, and a family of cannibalistic hillbillies. Yeah, you read that right- some humans decided that hunting game just wasn't cutting it, and moved on to chasing down people and… well, you know. I think you get the picture. Most of those stories had happy endings, except for the one belonging to Max Miller. To make a long story short, Sam discovered some new psychic powers that lead us to Max, a telekinetic man who had been abused for years and was taking his pain out on his abusers. When we tried to confront him, Max killed himself. That hit all of us pretty hard, but hit Sam the hardest- Max's mother had died just like Mary had, and Sam had gotten to know Max through their shared abilities. We took some time off after that one, and crashed in a nice (well, nicer than usual) motel to get some well-needed rest.

One morning, about a week into our stay, I woke up to a spray of cold water. I yelped and shot up in bed, and shoved my dripping hair out of my eyes. Dean was leaning over the side of the bed next to me, shaking his wet hair in my face while Sam cackled from the other side of the room.

"What the shit, jackass?" I yelled, and he gave me a goofy grin before turning to Sam and giving him the thumbs-up. While he wasn't looking, I leaped onto his back and locked my legs around his waist, and started tickling his sides. He yelped and tried to throw me off, but fell to the floor on his stomach, laughing so hard that tears came from his eyes. I sat on his lower back and raised my arms in triumph, and Sam cheered from his chair as Dean grumbled something about me fighting dirty. He reached back and tapped my thigh twice, and I rolled off of him and jumped to my feet, running over to high-five Sam.

"Victory is mine!" I cheered as Dean got up, pretending to be mad. To his credit, he managed to keep his composure for a good minute before he cracked and started laughing.

"All right, kid- you won that one," he said, managing to collect himself before tossing me a wrinkled paper bag. I peeked inside and pulled out a muffin, shoving a piece in my mouth.

"To what do I owe that lovely wakeup call?" I mumbled around the muffin, a few crumbs falling to the floor. Sam rolled his eyes at me before spinning his laptop around to face me. I plopped down in the chair in front of the screen and leaned in to take a look while I wove my hair into a Dutch braid down my back.

"Girl found dead in locked apartment, security system armed…" I mumbled to myself, and looked back up when I heard Sam speak.

"Sound like our kind of gig?" he said, smirking, and I secured the braid and swung it over my shoulder.

"Guess we're heading to Chicago," I replied, and grabbed my duffel bag, heading to the bathroom to change. I took off the tank top and boxers I had been wearing and traded them for my favorite long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans, and put on a little bit of makeup. I shoved my laundry into the canvas bag I kept in my duffel and left the bathroom, catching the soda that Sam threw to me. We walked to the car, and I threw my bags onto the floor of the backseat and climbed in after them, positioning myself so I could lean my back against the side of the car behind Dean. We pulled out of the lot and drove down the road, and once we had been driving for about an hour, I decided that I was bored. I scooted to the middle of the back seat and leaned forward to stick my head between the two brothers. Sam turned to look at me and smiled, looking up from the book he had been reading.

"Hey, El. What's up?" he asked, and I shrugged.

"Bored. Hungry. Deciding on my next existential crisis. You know, the usual," I responded, and Sam chuckled. "How much longer?"

"Probably 'bout an hour," Dean piped up, and turned to look at me, laughter shining in his bright green eyes. "Think you can survive 'til then?" I pretended to think for a second, and grinned back at him.

"Yeah, probably," I replied, and leaned back in my seat. I reached down and dug through my backpack for my iPod and put my earbuds in, closing my eyes.

I woke up half an hour later when I felt the car stop, and I opened my eyes and looked around. We had parked in an empty, somewhat sketchy alley, and I could hear Sam and Dean digging through the trunk. I stuck my head out the window to see what they were doing, and Dean looked over at me and grinned.

"Hey, kid," he said cheerfully, and I opened the car door so I could go stand by them.

"So what's the plan?" I asked, stopping to look them up and down. Sometime while I was sleeping, they had changed their clothes, and I laughed at their new outfits. "That's a good look, by the way."

"I feel like a high school drama dork," Dean grumbled, and then he laughed, seemingly remembering something. "What was that play you did?" he asked Sam, and Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Our Town, right?" I asked, and Sam nodded his head begrudgingly. "Yeah, I remember that one- Dean took me to see it. You were pretty good," I told him, and he smiled slightly at me before sighing and turning to Dean.

"Look, you wanna pull this off or not?" he asked, and Dean grumbled unhappily.

"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?"

"I didn't realize credit card fraud was so taxing," I smirked, and Dean shot me a look.

"Ella, you okay with staying in the car?" Sam asked, and I frowned at him.

"Dude, there's a cafe like right across the street- how about I go get something to eat and you text me when you're done?"

The two considered this for a moment before nodding, and I turned around to walk over, but didn't get very far before Dean reached out to grab my arm, spinning me around to face him.

"You still have that pepper spray I gave you?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Yes, and there's a knife in my boot and a fully-loaded gun strapped to my lower back. Can I go now?" I retorted, and he raised an eyebrow at me, but eventually nodded. I turned to walk away, feeling their eyes on my back.

"When the hell did she get a gun?" I heard Dean muttering to Sam, and I grinned and turned to wave at them before crossing the street and going into the cafe. I ordered a sandwich and a drink, and sat down at a table, pulling my laptop out of my bag. I was happily enjoying my meal in peace when a sleazy-looking guy plopped himself in the seat across from me and gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a flirty grin. I groaned internally and glared up at him, hoping he would get the message, but no such luck.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes and looked over my computer screen.

"What?" I growled, but he just grinned at me.

"When you fell from heaven?" he continued, and looked at me expectantly, probably waiting for me to fall at his feet. I sighed loudly and slowly closed my computer so I could look him in the eyes, and smirked at him.

"No, but I skinned my knees crawling out of hell," I retorted, and watched his face fall as I put my laptop in my bag. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to excuse me, I really should be getting back- I've got a kingdom to run." With that, I stood up and walked away, waving coyly as I pushed the doors open and stepped out onto the street. As soon as the door had closed behind me, I felt a buzz from my pocket, and saw Sam and Dean milling around the car, looking unhappy about something. I darted across the street as soon as the Walk light turned on, flipping off some ass-clown in a Mercedes who decided that I was moving too slow and rudely honked at me.

"So, what'd you find?" I asked them as I walked up to the car, and opened the door to put my bag in the backseat.

"Nothing good," Dean replied, shaking his head, and moved to get into the car. "We'll explain later- I need a drink."

A few hours later, Dean and I sat in a bar a mile from Meredith's apartment. Dean had filled me in on the strange symbol they had found dripped in blood on the carpet and was now flirting with the rather attractive bartender, and I rolled my eyes at him as I drank my Diet Coke. Sam walked through the doors and looked around, and I waved him over before yelling to Dean.

"Dean, get your ass over here!"

Dean drained the last sip from his drink and smiled at the woman one last time before walking over to the table I had claimed in the corner. Sam had taken out John's journal and was leafing through it next to me, and Dean sat down in the seat across from us.

"So I talked to the bartender," he announced, and I rolled my eyes at him again.

"Did you find out anything besides her number and what she's doing tonight?" I teased him, and he looked over at me and pretended to be hurt by my jab.

"Hey, I'm a professional- I'm offended that you would think that," he retorted, and Sam cleared his throat, shooting him a knowing look. Dean dropped the act and grinned at him, holding up a napkin with the bartender's number on it. I snatched it out of his hand and shoved it down my bra before he could grab it back, and he glared at me. I smirked at him, and Dean shook his head at me before getting back to business.

"Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here- she waited tables, everyone here was her friend… Everybody said she was normal," Dean said, and I nodded in agreement.

"You find anything on that symbol?" I asked Sam, and he shook his head.

"Nope, nothing- it wasn't in Dad's journal or any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess," he sighed, and I gave him a sympathetic smile before remembering something I had read in an article about Meredith's murder.

"Hey, wasn't there a victim before Meredith?" I asked Sam, and he nodded and pulled out a newspaper clipping.

"Yeah, his name was Ben Swardstrom," he replied, and handed Dean the clipping. "He was found mutilated in his town house last month, same deal- the door was locked, the alarm was on."

"Any connection between the two of them?" Dean asked, and I shook my head at him.

"Not as far as I could tell," I replied, and Sam nodded.

"Not yet, at least," he added. "Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress… They never met, never knew anyone in common- they were practically from different worlds."

"So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number," Dean said, glaring in my direction. I smirked at him, and he sighed, not daring to reach down my shirt and get it. I turned to Sam and saw that he was distracted by something at the other end of the room.

"Sam?" I asked, and he got up and started walking away. "Where are you going?" He ignore me and continued to walk away until he reached another table where a young woman with short blond hair sat with her back to us. I shot Dean a look, and he shrugged at me, just as confused as I was. I turned back to Sam just in time to see him put his hand on her shoulder, and as she turned around, I saw him step back in surprise.

She smiled at him and got up to give him a hug, and they talked for a little bit before Dean got impatient and walked up to them. I hissed at him to wait a second, but he ignored me. I groaned and followed him, catching up to him a second later.

"You're from Chicago?" I heard Sam asked, and the girl shook her head and smiled at him.

"No, Massachusetts- Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?" she gushed, and Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know- I thought I'd never see you again," Sam said in bewilderment, and I elbowed Dean. He looked down at me and shrugged, clearing his throat a little louder than what was necessary.

"Dude, cover your mouth," the girl said pointedly, and Sam suddenly realized that we were standing behind him.

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This, uh- this is my brother Dean," Dean nodded, and Sam gestured at me. "... and this is Ella."

"This is Dean?" Meg asked, looking surprised. Dean smiled at her, and she half-heartedly returned it before looking over at me, her face softening. "And Ella?" I waved shyly at her, and she smiled at me as Sam nodded.

"So you've heard of us?" Dean asked, and Meg turned to him with a displeased look on her face.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice- the way you treat your brother like luggage," she snapped, and turned to me, smiling apologetically. "Sam spoke very highly of you, you know."

"Sorry?" Dean asked, confused. I was too surprised to say anything, and glanced at Sam to see that he had a small smile on his face.

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth," Meg said sharply to Dean, and I saw Sam frown at her.

"Meg, it's all right," he said gently, and Dean whistled under his breath.

"Oookay, awkward. I'm gonna get a drink now," he said, giving me a pointed look before walking away with a puzzled look on his face. I looked back at Meg and smiled nervously, and she motioned for me to move closer.

"Come here- I promise I won't bite," she said gently, and I slowly moved closer to her. She smiled at me and reached out to pull me into a quick hug. I was surprised, but returned the hug before pulling away and turning to look at Sam in confusion. He smiled sheepishly at me and turned back to Meg, who smiled coyly at him.

"Well, we should hook up while you're in town," she said, and I took that as my cue to exit the conversation. I walked over to Dean, who was sitting at the table grumpily with a fresh drink in his hand. He looked up angrily as I approached, but as soon as he saw that it was just me, his face softened, and he managed a small smile.

"Well, that was weird," I commented, sitting down in the seat across from him. He scoffed in return and took a long drink from his glass before setting it down.

"Yeah, you think?" he said, and looked up at something behind me just as I felt a large hand being placed on my shoulder.

"You ready?" Sam asked from behind me, and I nodded, grabbing my jacket and bag from under my chair. I followed him out the door with Dean by my side, who said nothing for a few minutes before looking at Sam's back and speaking sharply.

"Who the hell was she?"

"I don't really know- I only met her once," Sam said, shaking his head in confusion before continuing. "Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man- it's weird."

"And what was she saying? That I treat you like luggage?" Dean snapped, and I reached out to grab his arm to try to get his attention. "What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick? And what the hell was up with her and Ella?" he asked, ignoring me.

"Dean, come on…" I pleaded, and Sam turned around to look at him apologetically.

"Look, I'm sorry, Dean," he started, but Dean just glared at him. "It was when we had that huge fight when I was at that bus stop in Indiana… But that's not important, just listen-"

"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying?" Dean interrupted, and I tugged on his arm, which he again ignored. "I mean, am I keeping you against your will?"

"Guys, come on-" I began, but Sam cut me off.

"No, of course not. Now, would you listen?" he pleaded, and I was debating whether or not to smack Dean when he sighed and relaxed a bit.

"What?" he asked, and Sam shook his head at him.

"I think there's somethin' strange going on here, Dean," Sam said thoughtfully, and Dean scoffed.

"Yeah, tell me about it- she wasn't even that into me."

At that point, I did smack him, and he looked down at me with a confused expression on his face.

"Dude, seriously?" I asked in exasperation, and he shrugged as Sam shook his head.

"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like maybe even a lead," Sam explained patiently, and Dean looked at him in confusion.

"Why do you say that?"

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? The same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?" Sam questioned him, and Dean shrugged.

"I don't know, random coincidence. It happens."

"Yeah, sure. If this is a coincidence, then I'm a prima ballerina," I said sarcastically, and Sam choked down a laugh.

"Look, I could be wrong. I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on…"' Sam trailed off, and Dean smirked at him.

"Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect- maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Dean said teasingly, and Sam rolled his eyes and laughed as I groaned loudly. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" he continued, and I reached out and smacked him.

"And maybe you're not thinking _enough_ with yours!" I chided, and Sam laughed again. "Get your mind out of the gutter, will ya?" Dean cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly at me, and I rolled my eyes at him before turning back to Sam as he spoke up.

"Do me a favor- you two check up and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor."

"What are you gonna do?" I asked, and Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"I'm gonna watch Meg," he replied, and Dean was about to make another comment when I shut him up by kicking the side of his leg. He glared down at me, and I gave him the death glare until he shrugged and turned back to Sam.

"All right, see ya later," he said, and turned to cross the street. I gave Sam a quick hug before darting after Dean, dodging a rather irate bicyclist who called me something I would rather not repeat. Dean turned to glare at him and grabbed my hand, pulling me along the sidewalk.

"Dean, I'm not five anymore- you don't have to hold my hand when we cross the street," I pointed out, and he shook his head at me.

"Shut up and walk," he said jokingly, keeping a tight grip on my hand. I sighed and gave up, and we walked the rest of the way to the hotel, pointing out funny bumper stickers on passing cars.

We finally reached the motel, and Dean borrowed Sam's computer to check out Meg while I did some research on the weird symbol on my laptop. I didn't have much luck until I decided to call Caleb, an old friend of John's. He explained what it was to me, and I thanked him and hung up to relay the information to Dean. He nodded, and grabbed his cell phone to call Sam, putting him on speaker.

"Hey," Sam answered, and I hopped off the bed I had been sitting on and walked over to the table where Dean sat.

"Let me guess- you're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" Dean said, and Sam scoffed.

"No." Dean looked up at me and grinned, but said nothing. "Yes," Sam finally admitted, and Dean smirked.

"You've got a funny way of showin' your affection," he teased, and yelped when I smacked him on the back of the head and grabbed the phone, sliding it closer to me.

"What was that?" Sam asked from the other end, and I shot Dean a glare and shook my head before I answered.

"Nothing," I said innocently, and Sam laughed.

"Hi, Ella. Find anything on Meg?"

"Sorry, man, she checks out," Dean chimed in, leaning closer to the phone so Sam could hear him. "There's a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook- I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh… invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do," he suggested, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"What about the symbol? Any luck?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's comment.

"Yeah, actually. Listen to this- turns out it's Zoroastrian," I said, and Dean nodded. "Very, very ancient- like two thousand years before Christ."

"It's a sigil for a Daeva," Dean chimed in, and there was a pause from the other end.

"What's a Daeva?" Sam asked, and I grabbed my laptop from the bed to look at the notes from what Caleb had told me.

"It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons are savage, animalistic… Kind of like demonic piranhas," I replied, and heard Sam chuckle over the phone.

"Nice work, El."

"Hey, don't thank me- I had no clue what the symbol was until I gave Caleb a call," I admitted, and Dean nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, here's the thing- these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured," Dean explained, and I scrolled through my notes.

"Yeah, and it's not easy- these things aren't exactly polite houseguests," I added, and I could hear Sam sigh.

"So what do they look like?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"Beats me. Nobody's seen 'em for a couple millennia," I replied, and Dean nodded. "I mean, summoning something that ancient? You gotta know what the hell you're doing."

"Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram," Dean smirked, and I shot him a look.

"Bite me," Sam replied from the other end, and I laughed.

"No, bite her!" Dean said over my laughter, and I dove for the phone. "Don't leave teeth marks, though!" he yelled as I took the phone off speaker and brought it up to my ear, just in time to hear a click from the other end.

"Sam?" I asked, and when I heard no response, I hung up and tossed the phone to Dean. "Nice work, jackass."

Dean smirked at me, and I laid back down on the bed to take a quick nap. I woke up a little while later when the door slammed, and sat up to see Sam enter the room.

"Dude, I gotta talk to you!" he and Dean said at the same time, and I laughed at them. Sam turned to look at me, and I saw the stricken expression on his face.

"Sammy? What's wrong?" I asked quickly, sliding off the bed and walking over to him.

"Ella, it's Meg. She's the one controlling that Daeva."

"Well, shit," I managed to choke out after a long, tense pause. "And you know this how?"

Sam quickly filled us in, and Dean let out a long, low whistle.

"So, Sammy's got a thing or the bad girl," he quipped, and Sam and I rolled our eyes at him as he chuckled.

"You said you saw her with some weird bowl?" I asked thoughtfully, and Sam turned to me, his brows a dark line under his hair.

"Yeah. She was talking into it- the way witches used to scry into crystal balls and animal entrails," he answered, shaking his head before continuing. "She was communicating with someone."

"With who, the Daeva?" Dean piped up, and Sam shook his head again, frowning.

"No, Ella said those things were savages. This was someone different- someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse," he said ominously, and Dean looked over at the files we had strewn across the table, his face serious and thoughtful. He sat down and leafed through them before stopping and snapping his head up to look at us, a shocked expression on his face.

"Holy crap."

"What?" I questioned, and he shook his head and let out a sharp exhale as I walked over to him. He looked up at me and handed me a file, and I started leafing through it.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier- I pulled a favor with my..." he paused, clearing his throat, and I rolled my eyes at him as he continued. "... _friend_ , Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims- we missed something the first time."

"What?" Sam asked, and came over to look at the records. I shook my head in disbelief and looked up at him, frowning.

"The first victim- that old man? He wasn't born here in Chicago. He was born in Lawrence, Kansas."

Sam's eyes got wide as he leaned over to look at the page, and Dean nodded in agreement as he slipped open the other file he had picked out of the stack.

"Meredith, second victim- turns out she was adopted. And guess where _she's_ from?"

"Holy crap," Sam murmured, sitting down in the chair across the table from Dean.

"You got that right," I sighed, and started to pace around the room.

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom- that's where everything started," Sam added, looking over at me. I reached up to gather my hair into a ponytail, and rubbed the back of my neck in frustration. I was about to say something when Sam started to talk, and I stopped to listen to him.

"So, you think Meg's tied up with this demon?"

"I think it's a definite possibility," Dean replied, and I nodded in agreement.

"What I don't get is how this whole Daeva thing ties into Lawrence," I wondered, and Dean paused for a moment before shaking his head.

"I don't know, kid," he said soberly. Then he scoffed and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table and crossing his arms. "But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation," he continued, his eyes flickering with anger as he set his jaw.

"No, we can't," Sam chided, and Dean turned to look at him in surprise. "We shouldn't tip her off."

"Sam's got a point, Dean. We've gotta stake out the warehouse and see what we're dealing with before we go in with guns a-blazin'," I chimed in, moving to rest my hand on the back of Sam's chair. Dean sighed quietly and nodded in defeat before looking back up at us, his forehead creasing before he spoke.

"I'll tell you one thing- I don't think we should do this alone."

"I think you're right, Dean," I said softly, and Sam nodded in agreement before getting up and turning to face me. I nodded at him, and couldn't hide the grin on my face.

"Let's go arm up," I said, and headed out the door to pack our bags. Sam followed me with the keys and opened the trunk, and we dove in, grabbing everything we could think of. We filled up two bags with as much stuff as we could fit, and turned back to the trunk to grab our weapons. I shoved one knife into the holster I had sewn into the lining of my favorite military boots and slid another one into a wrist sheath, which I strapped to my left arm and hid under my jacket sleeve. I pulled my hair back into a bun and secured it with two hair bands to keep it out of the way, and turned back to Sam, who was looking at me with a strange expression on his face.

"What?" I asked, and he shook his head and grinned.

"Nothing. Just remind me not to get on your bad side."

I laughed, and reached down to grab one of the bags. Sam grabbed the other one and slung it onto his shoulder, and we entered the room just as Dean hung up the phone, sighing.

"Voicemail?" I guessed, and dropped the bag on the bed.

"Yeah," he said, then laughed and gestured to the bags. "Jesus, what did you two get?"

"Pretty much everything," I admitted, and Sam chuckled lightly.

"Holy water, every weapon we could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions… I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything," he declared, and Dean nodded in agreement and grabbed a shotgun from the bag to load it. Sam did the same with a smaller gun, and once Dean was finished, he handed me the gun and pulled out another gun about the same size as Sam's.

"Big night," he commented, and Sam and I nodded.

"You nervous?" Sam asked Dean, who shook his head.

"No. Why, are you?"

"No. No way," Sam replied, and I rolled my eyes at their thinly-veiled deception as they both turned to me.

"How about you, kid?" Dean asked, and gave me a lopsided grin.

"A little bit," I admitted, and Sam smiled at me reassuringly.

"We won't let anything happen to you, El," he said gently, and I smiled back at him.

"Yeah, I know."

We were all silent for a few seconds until Sam shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?" Dean chided, and Sam sighed.

"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did?" he continued, and looked at us hopefully. "What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school, be a person again…" he trailed off, lost in his own imagination. I glanced over at Dean and saw his brows furrowing as he straightened up and put his gun down on the bed.

"You wanna go back to school?" he asked incredulously, and I winced, knowing that this conversation was not going to end well. I shot Sam a look, warning him to stop, but he was too lost in thought to notice.

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing," he continued, and I could see the tension begin to build in Dean's arms.

"Huh," he said simply, and turned away from Sam and set his jaw. I looked back at Sam, who had a confused expression on his face.

"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" he questioned, and I shot him another look, begging him to let it go.

"No," Dean replied, but I could tell that he was lying. "No, it's uh… great. Good for you," he said tersely, and I started to move closer to him, but Sam spoke up, stopping me in my tracks.

"El, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"

I froze and shot Dean a panicked look, and he straightened up and turned to face me, waiting for my answer.

"I don't know, Sam," I said softly, and he turned to look at Dean, oblivious to the pleading look I was giving him.

"What about you, Dean?"

"It's never gonna be over," Dean grumbled, anger flashing in his eyes as he strapped a knife to his forearm. "There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt."

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself-" Sam started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam," Dean snapped, and walked over to the dresser, balling his hand into a fist. I shot Sam the death glare and followed Dean, reaching out to lightly touch his upper arm. He glanced over at me and tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out looking more like a grimace.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Sam asked pointedly, and Dean clenched his jaw in frustration.

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere?" he said slowly, and turned to look at Sam, gritting his teeth. "Huh? I mean, why do you think we came and got you at Stanford in the first place?" he continued, his voice getting louder. I stepped back from him, my hands beginning to shake slightly as Sam responded.

"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man," Dean said sadly before silently turning back to the dresser. I reached out to touch his arm again, and he looked up at me, his face softening when he noticed how badly my hands were shaking. He smiled at me reassuringly and turned back to Sam, all traces of anger wiped from his face.

"You and me and Ella and Dad- I mean, I want us…" he trailed off, and reached out to put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. "I want us to be together again. I want us to be a _family_ again."

"Dean, we are a family," Sam sighed, and smiled softly at me. "I'd do anything for you and Ella. But things will never be the way they were before," he continued apologetically, and my heart sunk in my chest.

"Could be," Dean said hopefully, but Sam shook his head.

"I don't want them to be," he said softly, and I could feel my eyes filling up with tears. "I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over… you and Ella are gonna have to let me go my own way."

I buried my face into Dean's shoulder, fighting back tears, and he wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me close to his chest. I slipped my arms around his waist, and he rested his chin on the top of my head. After a minute, I heard the door close, and I looked up to see that Sam had left the room. Dean sighed and pulled away so he could look me in the eyes, and smiled softly.

"It's gonna be fine, kid. You'll always have me."

I nodded and wiped my eyes, taking a deep breath and pulling myself together.

"You ready, kid?" Dean asked, and I grinned up at him.

"Let's do this thing."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note**

 **Hey everyone! :)**

 **I hope you're liking the story so far, and thank you to everyone who has stuck with it- it's long, I know! I can't bear to cut it any shorter…**

 **As always, I do not own or claim to own Supernatural or its characters (the only character I do own is Ella)- all credit for that goes to the lovely writers.**

 **Alright, that's enough boring stuff from me- enjoy the story!**

We pulled up to the warehouse and slid silently out of the car, trying not to make a single sound. I looked over at Sam, who nodded, and the three of us walked towards the entrance, the gravel softly crunching beneath our boots. I followed closely behind the two brothers as we crept to the elevator gate, looking up at what seemed to be an endless column of metal bars. Sam motioned for me to go first, and I sighed and made sure all my weapons were secure before starting the climb. I grabbed bar after bar, testing each one to make sure it would hold- the last thing we needed was someone falling down the shaft and breaking their neck.

I finally reached the top, and poked the top of my head over the lip of the floor. I caught a glimpse of Meg standing at her altar and chanting another language in a low, honeyed voice, and I quickly ducked down. I reluctantly wrenched one of my hands from the bar it had been holding onto, and looked down at the boys, who were watching me for a signal. I held up a quick thumbs-up sign before bringing my finger to my lips, and they nodded in response. I looked back at Meg and saw that she was distracted, and slid through the small space between the gate and the wall. I crept over to the other side of the room and knelt down behind a stack of crates, soundlessly slipping my knife from my boot. Sam and Dean trailed behind me, drawing their guns as they slipped behind the crates. They aimed their weapons in Meg's direction as I crouched behind them, keeping my eyes on Meg. Suddenly, she stopped chanting and tilted her head to the side, and we all froze.

"Guys," Meg chided, her voice sickly sweet, and I shot a panicked glance at Dean. "Hiding is a little bit childish, don't you think?"

"Well, that didn't work out like I had planned," Dean grumbled, and Meg turned toward us, her face shadowed despite the warm glow of the candles that surrounded her.

"Why don't you come on out?"

Sam and Dean stepped out from behind the crates, pulling me behind them as we walked towards Meg. She smiled coyly at Sam, who glared back at her, his eyes blazing with pure hatred.

"Sam, I have to say, this really puts a crimp in our relationship," she commented, and I resisted the urge to call her every insulting name I knew. The corner of Sam's mouth curled up into a snarl as he spoke, his voice low and threatening.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Where's the Daeva, Meg?" I growled at her, and she smiled sweetly at me before shrugging and turning to Dean.

"Around. You know, that shotgun's not going to do much good," she taunted, and I was about to ask her if she wanted to test that theory when Dean spoke up.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," he drawled, grinning at her slyly. "The shotgun's not for the demon."

"So, who is it, Meg?" Sam questioned, and Meg turned to him, a smug smile painted across her face. "Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?"

"You," she hissed, and I could see a shadow on the wall shifting into a menacing shape. Sam was suddenly thrown to the ground, and I yelled out to him. Then the wind was brutally knocked out of me as the back of my head slammed into the wall, and I could hear Dean being thrown into a pile of crates just before my vision went dark.

When I finally came to, I found myself slumped against a post, the back of my head throbbing painfully. I moved to get up, and promptly realized that my wrists had been tied together behind me. I looked around frantically and saw that Sam and Dean were in the same situation, while Meg sat in front of us with a pleased look on her face. I saw Dean stir and slowly open his eyes, looking around in confusion before realizing what was happening. He glanced over at me and raised his eyebrows, and I nodded to tell him I was fine. We heard Sam come to and spun our heads to look at him, and as soon as we made sure he was okay (aside from 3 nasty slices on his cheek), Dean shot Meg a seriously pissed-off look.

"Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong was, but your girlfriend is a bitch."

"You forgot to mention she's a…" At this point I let out a string of swear words that would have gotten me banned from any public place ever, and the two brothers laughed as Meg glared at me.

"The whole thing was a trap…" Sam started, and Meg turned to look at him smugly. "Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?"

Meg laughed, and shrugged carelessly. "It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all."

"So you killed those two people for nothing," I snarled, and she turned to me and smirked.

"I've killed a lot more for a lot less."

"So you trapped us- good for you," Dean quipped, and smirked at Meg. "Why don't you kill us already?"

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Meg teased, and leaned in closer to Dean with a coy smile on her face. "This trap isn't for you."

Dean looked up at her, confused, and my heart sunk in my chest. Sam must have had the same thought as me, because he looked up at her, horror dawning on his face.

"Dad. It's a trap for Dad."

I looked over to Dean, expecting him to have the same reaction, but he just grinned confidently at Meg, who smiled back at him.

"Oh, sweetheart.. You're dumber than you look," he drawled, but Meg just looked at him condescendingly as he continued. "Cause even if Dad was in town, which he's not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."

"He is pretty good- I'll give you that," Meg conceded, and walked over to Dean. She sat down, straddling his legs, ignoring the glare he shot at her. "But you see, he has one weakness."

"And what's that?" Dean asked smugly.

"You," Meg replied coyly, and I saw Dean's smile flicker as a look of hatred clouded his features. "He lets his guard down around his boys and his precious girl, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town, and he'll come and try to save you," she continued, and I choked down an extremely rude comment. "And then the Daevas will kill everybody- nice and slow and messy."

"Well, I've got news for ya," Dean began, leaning towards her. "It's gonna take a lot more than just some shadow to kill him."

"Oh, the Daevas are in the room- they're invisible," Meg said slowly, as if she was talking to a small child. "Their shadows are the only part you can see."

"Why you doin' this, Meg?" Sam piped up, and she turned to look at him, her eyes shining in triumph.

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do- loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy, and Jess," she cooed, and I snarled in her direction.

"Go to hell," Sam hissed at her, but she just smiled and got off of Dean, who called her a few creative names under his breath.

"Baby, I'm already there," she purred, and slid over to Sam. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty." As she leaned in to whisper in his ear, I reached for the knife I had strapped to my wrist earlier and started to slide it out of its holster

"I think we both know how you really feel about me," she continued, and I finally pulled the whole knife out, almost dropping it in the process. Meg apparently didn't hear me, because she straddled Sam and continued to flirt with him.

"You know, I saw you watching me- changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?" she said softly, and I heard Dean groan from across the room.

"Get a room, you two."

I laughed, and he looked over at me with a smug smile on his face.

Knowing that I had his attention, I mouthed 'knife' at him, and he nodded slightly.

"I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me," Meg confessed, and I choked down a laugh at how obvious she was being. "Come on, Sammy… You and I can still have a little dirty fun." At this, she began to kiss his neck, just as I sliced through the rope tied around my wrists.

I looked over at Dean and nodded, and he mouthed that he almost had it.

"You wanna have fun? Go ahead then- I'm a little tied up right now," Sam growled, and Meg continued to kiss him. I rolled my eyes and shot a pointed look at Dean just as I heard his knife clatter to the floor.

"Really?" I hissed at him, and he shot me a sheepish grin as Meg got up and walked over to him. She walked behind Dean's post and took the knife from his hand, tossing it into the corner. Dean chuckled apologetically as she swung around the post to look at him before sliding back over to Sam.

"Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?" she pouted, and Sam gave her a smug smile.

"No. That's because I have a knife of my own."

Confusion flashed across Meg's face, and Sam broke free from the ropes and knocked his head against hers. She fell to the floor, groaning in pain, and I threw the shredded rope from around my wrist and lept to my feet, running over to help steady Sam.

"Get the altar!" Dean yelled, and once I made sure Sam wasn't going to fall over, I ran over to the table and gave it a savage kick, spilling its contents onto the floor before turning back to Meg and grinning triumphantly.

"I guess you are dumber than you look."

An unearthly howl filled the room as the shadow appeared on the wall and grabbed Meg, dragging her across the floor. I ran over to Dean and quickly cut the ropes around his wrists, and he jumped up and pulled me behind him just as we heard a loud crash. We turned and saw Meg falling through the shattered window, and by the time I reached the window she was sprawled on the sidewalk, her eyes cold and dead.

Sam and Dean reached the window a second later, and once they saw that Meg was dead, I heard Sam laugh quietly.

"So, I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around."

"Gee, you think?" I quipped, and Dean laughed before turning to Sam and grinning slyly.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Hm?" Sam mumbled absentmindedly, and I turned to Dean curiously.

"Next time you wanna get laid… find a girl who's not so buckets-o'-crazy, huh?"

I laughed, and Dean smiled at me before turning to walk away. Sam stood there, still staring down at Meg's broken body, and I reached out to touch his arm. He turned to smile at me and slung his arm around my shoulder, and I looked up at him worriedly.

"How's the face?" I asked, and Sam grimaced.

"I'll live," he replied, and we turned away to follow Dean. We climbed back down the elevator shaft until we reached the stairs and left the building, not turning back.

We parked the car outside our motel room and staggered towards the door, Sam bringing the bags with him. I shot him a puzzled look, and he shrugged.

"Better safe than sorry."

I nodded in agreement as Dean unlocked the motel door. As we walked in, we saw a shadowed figure standing by the window, the lights from surrounding buildings outlining him in an unearthly glow. I pulled my knife from its holster on my left arm and was about to throw it at the figure when Sam turned the lights on, and the man turned to face us.

I wish I could say that I reacted gracefully, but I was so shocked that I dropped my knife- had I not been wearing steel-toed boots, things would have ended very badly. I glanced over at Sam and Dean and saw that they were just as stunned as I was, and we froze for a second before Dean managed to speak up.

"Dad?"

"Hey, guys," John said, and Dean started walking towards him. Once they reached each other, John pulled Dean into a long hug, slapping him on the back and laughing. Then they pulled apart and John came over to me, a huge grin on his face. He grabbed me and pulled me into a bear hug, my toes grazing the carpet as I was lifted off my feet. I laughed breathlessly and John put me down before turning to Sam, who wiped the sad expression off his face and managed a small, thin smile.

"Hey, Dad," he said softly, and he and John just looked at each other, the tension hanging heavily in the air. Then Sam put the bag of weapons on the floor, looking away from John, and we all looked at each other before Dean broke the silence.

"Dad, it was a trap," he spoke up, shaking his head apologetically. "I didn't know- I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I thought it might have been," John said reassuringly, nodding at his eldest son.

"Were you there?" I chimed in, and John looked over at me and smiled proudly.

"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean said at the same time, and John turned to them and nodded, his smile fading into a business-like mask.

"Good. Well, that doesn't surprise me- it's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" Sam asked, surprise flickering across his beat-up, bloody face.

"It knows I'm close- that I'm gonna kill it," John said triumphantly, drawing his shoulders back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell- actually kill it."

"How?" Dean questioned, and John turned to him and smiled knowingly.

"I'm workin' on that," he drawled, and Sam stepped forward with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

"Let us come with you. We'll help," he said urgently, and I was about to nod in agreement, but Dean shot us both a warning glare, and I looked down at the floor instead.

"No, Sam. Not yet," John began, and I could see the hope fade from Sam's face as he continued to talk. "Listen, this demon is a scary son of a bitch, and I don't want any of you caught in the crossfire. I don't want you hurt." He glanced over at me as he said those last words, but I ignored him to look over at Sam, who looked confused.

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us," he said quietly, but John just shook his head at him.

"Of course I do- I'm your father," he replied, pausing as he looked down at his feet. When he raised his head to look up at Sam, I could see his eyes shining with regret. "Listen, Sammy… last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir," Sam said carefully, and John smiled at him sadly.

"It's good to see you again... it's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam agreed, and John reached out to pull him into a tight embrace. I could see Sam's shoulders begin to shake as tears started to creep down his face, and I smiled at him. Dean reached over to me and slung his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him and sighed happily, feeling my own eyes start to tear up. Sam and John pulled apart, and we all looked at each other in silence.

But because our lives aren't a Lifetime movie, the moment didn't last long. Suddenly the Daeva appeared and grabbed John, throwing him into the cabinets above the sink. He fell to the ground heavily, groaning, and I was about to run over to him when I was slammed back into the wall. I yelled for Sam and Dean to run, but it was too late- they took one step towards me and were brutally thrown to the ground. I screamed in pain as I felt the skin on my shoulder being shredded, and was about to reach out to check the damage when I was thrown into another wall and almost got the wind knocked out of me. I managed to pull myself up off the ground, and saw everyone else in the same position. Dean and John were both on the floor trying to get up, and Sam was crawling towards the bag of weapons. The corners of my mouth curled into a snarl as I got to my feet and held my arms out to the side, taunting the demon.

"Come and get me, you son of a bitch!" I growled, and the demon rushed towards me, slashing its shadowed hand at my ribs. I felt one of its claws tear into my side and yelled in pain, trying to keep my eyes on Sam. He reached the weapons bag and pulled out a flare, turning to us with a pained grin on his face.

"Shut your eyes! These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!" he roared, and I dove to the ground and covered my eyes with my arm just as a blinding white light filled the room, followed by a cloud of smoke. I could hear the demon screech in agony as it disintegrated. I managed to pull myself off the ground, clutching my side and coughing harshly, and felt someone grab my arm. I saw that it was Sam, and he pulled me out of the room and towards the stairs. I slammed my injured side into the handrail and choked down a scream, but managed to continue running down the stairs. We finally reached the door and stumbled out onto the street, still coughing and gasping for air as we ran to the car. I slumped into and pulled my hand away from my ribs, gritting my teeth at the pain. Sam reached out to me in concern, but I waved him away, and he ran around to the other side of the car.

"Come on, we don't have much time- as soon as the flare's out, they'll be back!" Sam yelled, and was about to get into the car when Dean interrupted him.

"Sam, wait!" he urged, turning to John. "Dad, you can't come with us."

"What?" I gasped, trying to stay on my feet and not pass out or cry from the pain. "What the hell are you talking about?" John nodded.

"You're all beat to hell-"

"We'll be all right," Dean cut John off roughly, and Sam turned to him in shock.

"Dean, we should stick together. We'll go after those demons-"

"Sam! Listen to me!" Dean demanded, and Sam fell silent. "We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop! They're gonna try again, and they're gonna use us to get to him."

"Dean…" I started, but he turned to me and smiled sadly.

"Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable with us- he's stronger without us around."

"Dad, no," Sam begged, and reached out to put a hand on John's shoulder. "After everything- after all the time we spent lookin' for you… Please. I gotta be a part of this fight."

"Sammy, this fight is just starting," John sighed as he reached up to grab Sam's wrist , and looked at each of us sadly. "And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now… you've gotta trust me, son."

Sam shook his head emphatically, and John looked at him somberly.

"Okay? You've got to let me go."

We stood in silence for a moment, and I painfully made my way over to Sam. I reached out and touched his arm with the hand that wasn't covered in blood, and he turned to look at me with tears shining in his eyes. He looked back to John and patted him on the shoulder once, and then stepped back. John looked over at Dean meaningfully and turned to walk back to his truck. I stumbled, and Sam reached out to steady me. Just before John got into the truck, he looked bak at us and smiled sadly.

"Be careful, boys. And take care of Ella." And with that, he drove away, leaving us standing on the street.

"Come on," Dean said quietly, and we got into the car. I laid across the backseat and managed to pull my jacket off without crying out in pain, and I saw Sam and Dean shoot each other a knowing glance as John's truck turned the corner. Dean started the car and backed into the street as Sam turned around to check on me, his eyes filled with concern.

"You alright, El?"

"I've had worse," I groaned, managing a small smile as I pulled my shirt up to check out the wound. Sam turned away politely, and I rolled my eyes at the back of his head before looking down at my side. It hurt worse than it looked, so I pulled my makeshift first aid kit from my backpack to patch it up. I grabbed some butterfly bandages and some alcohol wipes, and made sure the wound was clean before bandaging it up. I tossed a few alcohol wipes over the back of the seat and into Sam's lap and took care of my shoulder before sitting up and sticking my head between the two brothers.

"So what do we do now?"

Sam looked at me and shrugged as he wiped the blood from his face, and we both turned to Dean expectantly. He glanced over at us and thought for a moment before grinning back at us.

"I don't know, but I could go for some pie right about now."

"Dude, you look like you lost a fight with a paper shredder," I quipped, and Sam laughed. Dean rolled his eyes, and I grinned at him. "I mean, if you want to give some poor waitress a heart attack, go right ahead…"

Dean thought for a second, and then a grin flashed across his face as he looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. I shot him a confused look before I realized what he was thinking, and laughed as I shook my head.

"Dean, my shirt is covered in blood and my hair's a mess. I don't think they'll let me in either."

Dean sighed and looked over at Sam, who was staring out the window, lost in thought. He shrugged and pulled over, and as Sam turned to him in confusion, he put the car into park and took his jacket off. He then took off the plaid shirt he wore over his t-shirt (at this point, Sam looked at him like he was insane) and tossed it back to me. I looked it over for a second and declared it blood-free before giving the two brothers a pointed look.

"You guys mind?"

They both turned around and covered their eyes while I pulled off my bloodstained shirt and dropped it on the floor next to me before putting on Dean's shirt. I buttoned it up and laughed silently at how big it was on me, and then leaned forward to rest my chin on the back of the seat.

"Sooooo… pie?"

Dean smiled at me and started the car, and we drove to the nearest diner. I ran in and grabbed a pie for us to share, and grabbed some plastic forks before heading out to the car. I climbed in and smacked Dean's hand away as he reached over the backseat for the pie, and he rolled his eyes before starting the car.

We found an empty lot and parked, and Dean refused to eat in the car ("Ella, if you get crumbs in my Baby, I will MURDER YOU IN YOUR SLEEP"). I spread a blanket out on the dirt and we had a miniature picnic, laughing at Dean's pouty face when he realized he was expected to share. Once we had finished the pie, we attempted to play frisbee with the tin, quickly realizing that playing while holding flashlights was harder than it sounded. We tossed the tin around until I started to yawn, and we packed up and got in the car. We drove in no particular direction until I could no longer keep my eyes open and curled up in the backseat, falling asleep to the sound of Dean quietly singing along to the radio.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey y'all!**

 **Sorry about the wait- I usually write chapters a little faster, but this one was difficult to write for some reason.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and don't be afraid to let me know what you think! :)**

We thought that was the last we would ever see of Meg. After we took her out, we started working on new cases- a Tulpa in Texas, a Shtriga in Wisconsin, a den of vampires, and a painting haunted by a seriously pissed-off little girl. Everything was back to normal, but it didn't stay that way for long. I mean, come on- we're hunters. We don't exactly get vacation days. We had just saved a woman from the same fate as Mary Winchester and were trying to get ahold of John, who wasn't answering his phone.

"Come on, Dad- answer your phone, damn it!" Dean cursed as he paced around the Iowa motel we had crashed in. I was slumped against the headboard of one bed and frowning at the singed ends of my hair while Sam sat on the other bed, looking like he was about to punch something. I heard Dean hang up and toss his phone on the bed, and I looked up to see him shaking his head.

"Something's wrong," he muttered grimly, continuing to pace around the room. I nodded in agreement and looked over at Sam, expecting him to say something, but he was staring angrily at the wall.

"You hear me? Something's wrong!" Dean repeated, and Sam shook his head slowly.

"If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this," he said quietly, and Dean started moving towards him.

"Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life," he countered, but Sam just shook his head and continued staring at the wall.

"You don't know that."

"So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself? Is that it?" Dean barked, and I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, shooting Dean a warning glare.

"Yeah. You're damn right I am," Sam shot back at him, standing up. I looked over him in shock as I stood up as well and walked over to him.

"Sam, no-" I started, but Dean cut me off.

"Well, that's not going to happen- not as long as I'm around."

I could see Sam's eyes blazing with anger, and I stepped away in fear as he spoke in a rough, harsh tone.

"What the hell are you talking about, Dean? We've been searching for this demon our whole lives- it's the only thing we've ever cared about!"

Dean sighed and reached up to rub the back of his neck, and I looked down at the floor before responding.

"Sam, it's not worth dying over," I said softly, and he looked over at me in disbelief.

"What?"

"If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing!" Dean growled, and Sam turned to him, his face hardening.

"That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom!" he retorted, and I stepped away from him again and moved closer to Dean, who was glaring back at Sam, his jaw set.

"You said yourself that no matter what we do, they're gone!" he snapped, and Sam grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. I choked down a scream and darted away from them, standing so my back was against the corner of the room by the door.

"Don't you say that, not you!" Sam roared, and I winced, pressing my back farther into the corner. "Not after all this!"

"Sam, look…" Dean began in a quiet voice, and I saw Sam's face soften slightly. "The four of us… that's all we have- and it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holdin' it together, man. And without you, or Ella, or Dad…"

"Dad," Sam choked out, and he let go of Dean. He turned away and walked across the room, and I took a tiny step away from the corner. Dean took a deep, shaky breath and stepped away from the wall, moving towards me. He slowly reached his arm out to me and put his hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. He frowned slightly and pulled me into a tight hug, resting his chin on my head as I buried my face into his chest. He pulled away a second later and looked down at me, concern clouding his features, and I smiled weakly up at him.

"He should have called by now…" Sam said from across the room, and we both turned to look at him. His back was to us, but as he turned to face us, we could see him trying to hold back tears. "Try him again."

Dean nodded and reached for his phone, and I sat on the edge of the bed and rested my elbows on my knees, wiping my eyes. Dean dialed John's number and brought the phone up to his ear, and he was silent as he waited for someone to pick up. Then he straightened up, and I could see the corners of his mouth curling up into a snarl as his eyes narrowed.

"Where is he?"

I snapped my head up in shock and leapt to my feet as Dean looked over at Sam and I.

"Meg," he mouthed, and I spun to look at Sam, who looked just as horrified as I did.

"I'm gonna kill that demonic fucktrumpet!" I yelled, and Dean choked down a laugh before snarling into the phone and hanging up.

"They've got Dad."

"What'd she say?" Sam sputtered, and Dean shot him a panicked look.

"I just told you, Sammy!"

Dean grabbed the Colt and tucked it into the back of his jeans and stood up, grabbing his duffle bag. I grabbed the knife I had tucked under my pillow and shoved it into my boot, gathering my singed hair into a ponytail before straightening up and turning to Sam. He just stood there looking at us strangely, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"We gotta go- you comin' or not?"

"What? Why?" he protested, snapping out of whatever trance he was in and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, alright?" Dean piped up, throwing his jacket on. "It knows we've got the Colt. It's got Dad, and it's probably coming for us next."

"Good- we've still got three bullets left," Sam retorted, and extended his arms to the side slightly, his hands still in his pockets. "Let it come."

"Sam. we don't know how many demons are out there," I pointed out, and Dean nodded in agreement.

"We're not ready, okay? And we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving now!" Dean demanded, grabbing his bag and jogging out to the car. I made sure I had everything before following him and sliding into the backseat, dropping my backpack on the floor. Sam got in the car a second later, still looking unhappy about the plan, and we tore out of the parking lot.

"I'm telling you, Dean- we could have taken him," Sam grumbled about 10 minutes into the drive. I groaned internally and stuck my head over the back of the seat between the two brothers, deliberately turning my head so that I was facing Dean and not Sam.

"What we need is a plan," Dean declared, ignoring Sam as he continued to talk. "Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive- we just gotta figure out where. They're gonna want to trade him for the gun."

I leaned back and rested my chin on the seat just in time to see Sam shake his head. Dean glanced over at him and rolled his eyes.

"What?"

Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade?" Sam replied, and his face fell. "Dad might be-"

"Don't!" Dean snapped, and stared straight ahead at the road, his jaw set.

"Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you," Sam started, and Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "But if he is, all the more reason to kill the damn thing. We have the Colt- we can still finish the job."

"Screw the job, Sam!" Dean growled, and I shot him a glare.

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going," Sam retorted, and I turned my head to look at him.

"Sam, come on. For all we know, he's still alive and kicking- you talk about him like he's already dead," I chimed in, and I heard Dean grunt in agreement.

"Everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything," he declared, and Sam nodded in agreement. Dean glanced at me through the rearview mirror, and I nodded as well before flopping back against the seat and pushing my bangs out of my face.

"So how do we find him?" I questioned, and Dean shrugged.

"Maybe we go to Lincoln- start at the warehouse where he was taken," Dean suggested, but I saw Sam frown.

"Come on, Dean- you really think these demons are going to leave a trail?"

Dean paused for a second before grinning at me in the mirror. I raised my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his response.

"You're right- we need help."

He reached into his pocket and dug around for his phone before tossing it back to me. I caught it and shot him a confused look, and he smirked at me.

"Call Bobby."

About an hour into the drive, I curled up in the backseat and fell asleep. I woke up a while later to someone gently shaking my shoulder and saw that it was light outside. I slowly opened my eye and squinted up at Sam, who managed to smile down at me.

"We're about fifteen minutes out, El."

I groaned and sat up, rubbing my eyes and pushing my hair out of my face. I swore as I tried to wrangle it into a braid, frowning again at the singed ends. Once I managed to tame my hair, I sat back in my seat and rummaged around in my backpack for food. Finding nothing, I bent over to dig under the seat, emerging triumphantly with a half-eaten bag of sour gummy worms. Sam raised his eyebrows at me in the rearview mirror, and I shrugged and held them out to him. He shook his head, and I fake-pouted and offered the bag to Dean, who happily took some.

By the time we arrived at Bobby's house, I had finished off the gummy worms and was currently amusing myself by trying to give a grumbling Sam a new hairstyle. I had finally managed to make his hair stand up straight from his head when we pulled up to the front door and he shook his head like a wet dog, returning his hair to its normal state. I laughed and hopped out of the car just as Dean reached the door and started to knock. Sam and I had just reached the doorstep when Bobby opened the door, looking at us in surprise as Dean spoke up.

"Hey, Bobby. John's in trouble, and we need some help."

Bobby's face fell, but he ushered us into the house and shut the door behind him. Then he turned to us and grinned, reaching out to clap Dean on the shoulder.

"It's been too long, Dean," he said, and turned to Sam with a puzzled look on his face.

"Thought you were at college."

I saw Sam wince, and Dean shot Bobby a look. He nodded in understanding before he looked over at me and pulled me into a hug.

"You got tall, kid!" he said in surprise, and I laughed and hugged him back. He pulled away from me and patted my shoulder before motioning for us to follow him into his "office".

There were books piled everywhere, and various papers were haphazardly hung on every wall. Sam sat down at a large desk by the bookcases and looked around, grabbing a book bigger than his head and settling back into the chair. Dean stood by a large stack of books with his hands in his pockets, and as soon as I saw the large Rottweiler through the window, I turned to Bobby and gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. He laughed and went to go get the dog, reappearing a moment later with two flasks in his hands and the dog trailing behind him. I happily plopped myself down on the floor and extended a hand to the dog, and it sniffed my fingers before deciding I wasn't a threat and allowing me to pet it.

"Well, it's good to see that some things never change," Bobby chuckled, and handed one of the flasks to Dean. "Here you go."

"What is this- holy water?" Dean asked, and Bobby nodded.

"That one is- this is whiskey," Bobby replied as he took a swig from the flask before handing it to Dean, who gladly drank some.

"Bobby, thanks- thanks for everything," Dean said, and he shook his head. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

"Nonsense- your daddy needs help," Bobby retorted, and I smirked as I remembered the last time we had seen him.

"Well, last time we saw you, you kinda threatened to blast him full of buckshot- cocked the shotgun and everything," I pointed out, and Bobby gave me a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people."

"Yeah, I guess he does," Dean said quietly, shaking his head slightly. I looked back down at the dog, who had now rested his head on my leg and fallen asleep, and reached out to stroke its head as Dean smiled down at me.

"Bobby, this book…" Sam piped up from the desk, and Bobby turned to look at him. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Key of Solomon?" Bobby questioned as he walked over to Sam and sat on the edge of the desk, craning his neck to see the cover of the book. "It's the real deal, alright."

"And these, uh… these protective circles- they really work?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows at Bobby, who nodded at him.

"Hell, yeah. You get a demon in, they're trapped. Powerless. It's like a Satanic roach motel." Sam chuckled at this, and Dean walked over to check out the book.

"Man knows his stuff," he commented, and Bobby shook his head.

"I'll tell you something else, too- this is some serious crap y'all stepped in," he said unhappily, and I saw Sam look up at him in surprise.

"Yeah? How's that?"

"Normal year, I hear of, say… three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops," Bobby began, shaking his head.

"And this year?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from the now snoring dog.

"This year, I've heard of 27 so far," he replied, and I swore under my breath as he continued. "You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us- a lot more."

"Do you know why?" Sam questioned, but Bobby shook his head.

"No, but I know it's something big. The storm's coming, and you boys, Ella, and your daddy- you are smack in the middle of it."

With that, the Rottweiler shot up from my lap and out the door, barking his head off.

"Rumsfeld!" Bobby yelled, and went over to the window. Just as he reached it and looked out to the yard, Rumsfeld abruptly stopped barking and yelped before going silent.

"Something's wrong…" Bobby muttered, and was about to head towards the door when it was kicked wide open, and Meg sauntered in.

"You again? God, you're worse than a disease!" I snapped, and I saw Dean slip the holy water flask out of his pocket.

"No more crap, okay?" Meg announced, but Dean didn't agree. He came at her, unscrewing the flask, but was promptly thrown into a stack of books when Meg hit him. He fell to the floor and seemed to be knocked out, and I turned to glare at Meg before stepping in front of where he laid on the floor.

"You know, I liked you better when I thought you were dead," I quipped, and Meg looked like she wanted to throw me into something.

"Who let the bitch off her leash?" she snarled at me, and turned her attention back to Sam, who had stepped in front of Bobby.

"I want the Colt, Sam- the real Colt. Right now," she demanded, following Sam and Bobby as they slowly moved across the room.

"We don't have it on us. We buried it," Sam lied, but Meg just glared at him. I heard Dean get up quietly behind me, and he slowly moved around the edge of the room.

"Didn't I say no more crap?" She hissed, and shook her head in frustration. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you- I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads and her. Lackluster, guys. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually, we were counting on it," Dean piped up from behind her, and he smirked at her as she spun to face him. Then he looked up at the ceiling, and Meg did the same, seeing the large protection symbol Bobby had etched into the ceiling at some point.

"Gotcha."

We tied Meg to a chair in the middle of the floor, and Sam and Dean kept watch while Bobby and I salted the doors and windows. As I came back into the room, I heard Meg speak up.

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask," she purred seductively, and I laughed as I walked up to her.

"Sorry, Meg- you're not really my type. I don't do the whole demonic psychopath thing," I drawled, and she drew her lips up in a snarl. Bobby walked in with a canister of salt bigger than his head and put it down on a table in the corner before turning back to us and nodding. Dean stood up and walked around Bobby and Sam to stand in front of Meg while I leaned against the wall to her left.

"Where's our father, Meg?" Dean demanded, but she just grinned coyly at him.

"You didn't ask very nice."

"Where's our father, bitch?" Dean retorted, smirking at her, and she gasped dramatically and smirked right back at him.

"Jeez- you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot… you don't."

Dean lunged at her and slammed his hands onto the chair arms, giving her the sharpest glare I had ever seen.

"You think this is a frigging game?" He roared, and I resisted the urge to punch Meg in the face. "Where is he?! What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming- I killed him myself!" she snapped, and I called her some very colorful names before Dean backhanded her across the face and I tried my hardest not to cheer. She snapped her head back up and grinned coyly up at him, ignoring the anger blazing in his eyes.

"That's kind of a turn-on, you hitting a girl."

"You're no girl," Dean growled, and I saw Bobby stand up and move into the next room.

"Dean," he called out, and Dean walked over to him while I gave Meg one last glare before walking away.

"You okay?" Sam asked carefully as he moved over to Dean, who shot him a look.

"She's lying- he's not dead!" He fumed, and Bobby looked over at him with worry written all over his face.

"Dean, you got to be careful with her- don't hurt her," he said gently, and Dean looked at him in shock.

"Why?"

"Because she really is a girl, that's why," Bobby replied, and I looked over at him in confusion before I realized what he was talking about.

"She's possessed, isn't she?" I questioned, and he nodded sadly at me.

"You're trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped in there somewhere?" Dean asked urgently, and I looked over at Meg in horror as Dean continued talking. "That's actually good news."

"You think we can save her?" I asked quietly, and Dean looked over at me and nodded. Sam thought for a second before walking back into the other room and grabbing John's journal, leafing through it. He stopped at a page and motioned to us to come look, and Dean and I walked over to him. I quickly read the page and nodded up at Sam, and we both turned to look at Dean. He nodded as well, and we walked over to Meg, who looked up at us and smirked.

"Are you gonna read me a story?" she asked sarcastically, and Dean laughed quietly.

"Something like that. Hit it, Sam."

Sam began to read from the page, and Meg turned to Dean and I with a smug smile on her face.

"An exorcism? Are you serious?" She laughed, and Dean grinned at her.

"Oh, we're going for it, baby- head spinning, projectile vomiting… the whole nine yards."

Sam said a few more words, and Meg flinched in pain. Sam stopped and looked over at Dean, and Meg turned to late at Sam over her shoulder.

"I'm gonna kill you," she hissed, before turning back to Dean. "I'm gonna rip the bones from your body, and then I'll break all of your precious Ella's bones one by one!"

"No, you're gonna burn in hell," Dean said smugly, and stepped closer to her. "Unless you tell us where our Dad is." She just smiled at him, and Dean shook his head at her. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan."

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incuriso infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, onmis congregatio et secta diabolica…" At this point, Meg gasped in pain and Sam stopped, looking up at her.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes, and begged to see his children one last time… That's when I slit his throat!" She snarled, and Sam continued to read the exorcism.

"For your sake, I hope you're lying," Dean growled as he leaned down to look her in the eyes. "Cause if it's true, I swear to God- I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you sons of bitches!"

A wind started to blow through the room as Sam continued to read from the journal, and Meg started shaking violently.

"Where is he?" Dean asked in a low voice, and Meg turned to glare at him.

"You just won't take dead for an answer, will you?"

"Where is he?!" Dean repeated, his voice getting louder and harsher.

"Dead!" Meg barked, and Dean shook his head emphatically.

"No he's not!" He roared, and I stepped closer to Sam, who looked over at me in concern as Dean continued to yell.

"He's not dead- he can't be!" At this, Dean noticed the concerned look Sam was giving him and looked over at him, his face twisted in anger.

"What are you looking at? Keep reading!"

Sam continued the exorcism, and the wind grew strong enough to slide the chair around the circle as Meg continued to shake and groan. Finally, she looked up, gritting her teeth.

"He will be!" she yelled, and Dean froze.

"Wait, what?!" He barked, and Meg looked over at him with pure hatred in her eyes.

"He's not dead. But he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Dean demanded, but amen just shook her head.

"You don't."

"Sam!" Dean yelled, and Meg gasped in pain before speaking up again.

"A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri?" Dean asked, and she managed to nod. "Where, where? An address!"

"I don't know," she managed to say, and Sam looked up at her.

"And the demon we're looking for- where is it?" heasked, and she shook her head desperately.

"I don't know, I swear!" She pleaded, looking over at me and Sam. "That's everything- that's all I know."

"Finish it," Dean spat, and Meg looked at him in shock.

"What? I told you the truth!"

"I don't care," he growled, and glared at her.

"You son of a bitch, you promised!" Meg yelled, and Dean smiled smugly at her.

"I lied. Sam?"

Sam didn't say anything, and Dean turned to us in frustration.

"Sam! Read!" He commanded, and walked over to us.

"Dean, maybe we can still use her- find out where the demon is," Sam pointed out quietly, but Dean just shook his head.

"She doesn't know."

"She lied," Sam said in exasperation, and I looked up at him and frowned.

"Sam, there's a girl trapped in there- we have to help her," I said urgently as Bobby came up to us, shaking his head.

"You're gonna kill her."

"What?" Dean asked, and I stepped back in horror.

"Oh my God…" I gasped, and reached out to grasp Sam's arm.

"What?" Dean asked again, and Bobby frowned at him.

"You said that she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken- the only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it, that girl is going to die."

"Listen to me, all of you- we are not going to leave her like that!" Dean insisted, but Bobby shook his head.

"She is a human being!"

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery," Dean said decisively, and turned to look at me and Sam. "Finish it."

Sam looked between his brother and Bobby before looking down at me, his face troubled. I nodded up at him tearfully before burying my face into his shoulder, and he continued the exorcism.

Suddenly denle, Meg threw back her head and screamed, a cloud of black smoke streaming from her mouth. The cloud spread out in the Circle carved into the ceiling before disappearing as Meg fell forward, blood dripping from her mouth.

I started to rush over to her, but Bobby grabbed my arm and held me back.

"Ella, we don't know if it's really over."

After a moment, Meg lifted her head, and I broke free of Bobby's grasp and ran to her.

"She's still alive…" I gasped, and heard Dean swear behind me.

"Call 911- get some water and some blankets," Dean said to Bobby, and he ran out of the room. Sam and Dean untied Meg while I pulled off the shirt I was wearing over my tank top and wiped the blood from her mouth.

"Thank you," she whispered, and I smiled weakly at her.

"Take it easy, okay?" I said softly, and Dean nodded at me before turning to Sam.

"Come on, let's get her down."

They lifted her from the chair, and we could hear her bones crunch as we lowered her to the floor. She screamed in pain, and I winced and moved so she could rest her head on my lap.

"It's okay, we got you. It's okay," I said soothingly, and Meg looked up at me and gasped for air.

"A year," she choked out, and I wiped more blood from her mouth so she could breathe more easily.

"What?" Sam asked quietly, and she swallowed painfully.

"It's been a year."

"Shhh… just take it easy, okay?" I said gently, but she shook her head weakly.

"I've been awake for some of it… I couldn't move my own body. The things I did… it's a nightmare."

"Was it telling us the truth about our dad?" Dean asked, and I shot him a death glare. He looked over at me and smiled apologetically.

"We need to know."

"Yes," Meg gasped, trying to continue. "But it wants… you to know… that… they want you to come for him."

"If Dad's alive, none of that matters," Dean responded, and Bobby finally came back with a blanket and a glass of water. He and Sam covered her with the blanket while I held her head up so Dean could help her drink. Sam furrowed his brows and was about to say something when I shot him a glare, and Meg looked up at me urgently.

"They're keeping him… by the river. Sunrise," she managed to say, struggling for air.

"It's okay, Meg. Thank you," I said gently, and reached out to stroke her hair. She smiled gratefully up at me, and I sang to her softly for a few minutes, hoping to give her a little comfort, until her eyes glazed over and she was still.

Tears started falling from my eyes, and I leaned over and rested my forehead against hers. I had seen death so many times, but this girl… she didn't deserve it. She spent the last year of her life trapped in a body that she couldn't control, and she died without ever having the chance to get her life back. I sat there until I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Bobby smiling sadly at me.

"You guys better hurry up before the paramedics get here," he said gently, and I nodded weakly. Dean reached out to help me up and pulled me to my feet before looking back to Bobby.

"What are you gonna tell them?"

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops?" Bobby scoffed, and I managed a small smile as he continued. "I'll figure something out. Here, take this." He handed the Key of Solomon book to Sam, who took it gratefully and thanked him.

"Thank you for everything, Bobby. Be safe, okay?" I said quietly, and he reached out to hug me.

"You just go find your Dad. And when you do, bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time," he chuckled as he pulled away from me, and I smiled at him as Dean slung his arm around my shoulder and steered me towards the car. I waved as we drove away, and watched Bobby and his house get smaller and smaller as we sped down the road.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey everyone!**

 **I hope you like this chapter :)**

We parked the car at the side of the road next to an abandoned structure, and Dean immediately went around to the trunk while Sam leafed through the book Bobby had given him and I sharpened my knives. Dean began loading up guns and putting them into his duffle bag, a solemn look on his face.

"You've been quiet, Dean," Sam spoke up, and Dean glanced up at him.

"Just getting ready," he replied tensely, and I shot Sam a look. I walked over to Dean and leaned against the side of the car, and he looked up at me, his brows furrowed and his face somber.

"He's gonna be fine, Dean," I reassured him, but he just looked back down into the trunk and didn't say anything. I heard Sam flip to another page in his book, and then the sound of his footsteps as he walked over to the trunk with a marker in his hand. He brushed some dust off of the corner of the trunk and started drawing something on it, much to Dean's dismay.

"Dude, what are you drawing on my car?"

"It's called a Devil's trap- demons can't get through it," Sam said absentmindedly, and I leaned over to get a better look.

"So?" Dean asked unhappily, and I could hear the pitch of his voice rising.

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox," Sam replied, walking around to the other end of the trunk and drawing the same symbol.

"So?" Dean repeated, and Sam looked over at him in confusion.

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad."

I shot Sam a confused glance and pushed off from the side of the car, turning so I could look at him.

"Wait, what?" I asked in disbelief, and Dean stepped closer to me with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What are you talking about? We're bringing the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left- we can't just use them on any demon. We've got to use them on the demon," Sam replied, finishing the drawing and looking up at us.

"No. We have to save Dad, Sam. Okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get," Dean retorted, and I frowned at him. But before I could say anything, I was cut off by Sam, who was now looking at us in confusion.

"Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets?" Sam asked, and I winced involuntarily. John had only been mad at me a few times, but I had seen how he treated Dean- not exactly the highlight of my childhood. I looked over at Dean, thinking that would convince him to leave the gun behind, but his eyes narrowed.

"I don't care, Sam!" Dean barked, and I moved away from him a little bit. "I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants?"

"We want to kill this demon!" Sam shot back, leaning forward. I looked between the two brothers frantically, not sure what to say. I had never felt as close to John as the boys did, but I still cared about him. He saved my life- how could I not feel indebted to him? But he was more like a mentor than a father, and I never really felt like a part of the family until I became a hunter. I stayed silent, letting the boys figure it out- they were his blood, and I was just the girl they took pity on.

"You used to want that too. Hell, I mean, you're the one who came and got me at school!" Sam continued, and Dean scoffed and looked away. "You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean- I'm just trying to finish it!"

Dean paused for a moment and looked down at his feet, his jaw jutting slightly forward. He shook his head before looking back up at Sam, his eyes hard and cold.

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?" he said harshly, and I could see the anger burning in his eyes. "You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? We're gonna be the ones to bury you!"

At this, he motioned to me, and I looked over at him, speechless.

"You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge," Dean spat, and I shot him a cold glare before stepping closer to the trunk and slamming it shut. Both brothers flinched and looked at me in shock, and I glared at both of them.

"CUT IT OUT!" I roared, and they both looked down sheepishly. "We need to focus!" I stood in silence for a minute before taking a deep breath and continuing in a much calmer tone.

"Dean, we can't bring the gun," I said, and he started to say something before he noticed the look I was giving him. "They're expecting us to bring it- and if they get it, they will kill us all. I know you want to save John, but you can't do that if you're dead."

Dean nodded at me and looked back down at his feet, and I turned to Sam.

"And Sam?"

He looked up at me and managed a small smile.

"If you get yourself killed, I will bring you back to life and cut your hair."

With that, Dean laughed out loud, and the tension broke. Sam shook his head at me and pretended to be disappointed in me, and I stuck my tongue out at him before opening the trunk. I shot Dean a look, and he reluctantly slid the Colt from his jacket pocket and put it in the trunk. I closed the trunk (more gently this time) and grabbed my jacket, and we started to walk along the river.

A few minutes later, Dean stopped walking and elbowed me. I spun around to face him and he pointed to a sign on a nearby building.

"I think I know what Meg meant by 'sunrise'."

I looked over and swore under my breath, and I heard Sam sigh behind me.

"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed, turning to look at both of us. "That's pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Which means anyone can attack us," I groaned, and Dean nodded at me.

"And we can't kill them- a building full of human shields," he said unhappily, and Sam shook his head in frustration.

They probably know exactly what we look like, too- and they could look like anybody," he added, and Dean groaned.

"Well, this sucks out loud."

"You got that right," I mumbled unhappily, and looked over at Dean. "So how the shit are we gonna get in?"

He looked at the building for a minute, furrowing his brows, before turning back to us.

"Pull the fire alarm, get out all the civilians."

"Okay, but then the city responds in what, seven minutes?" Sam pointed out, and Dean nodded.

"Seven minutes exactly."

"Great," I said sarcastically, and pulled my hair up into a haphazard bun before making sure the little bags of salt and the bottle of holy water that I had shoved into the hidden pocket in my jacket were secure. Once I was done, I looked back up at Sam and Dean, and nodded to let them know I was ready.

"Let's do this thing."

We sent Sam into the building to pull the alarm while we hid behind some trees. I entertained myself by playing rock-paper-scissors with Dean, and was beating him by about 3 points when we heard the alarm go off. People started streaming from the building, and after a few minutes, we saw Sam. He made his way over to us, and we stood by the curb trying our best to look like concerned civilians.

The firemen pulled up a few minutes later, and I motioned for Sam and Dean to stay put while I rushed up to the closest fireman.

"What's going on? Is it a fire?" I asked, pretending to be frantic with worry.

"We're figuring that out right now, miss. Just stay back," the man said, and I grabbed his arm and shot him a pleading look as Dean ran up to us.

"Sir, you've got to let us in there," he said frantically, and I shot him a confused look. "My wife and I… We've got a Yorkie upstairs, and he pees when he's nervous…"

I choked down a laugh and gripped the fireman's arm tighter, but he managed to detach me from his arm and gently push me back.

"Miss, you have to stay back."

"Come on, honey," Dean said, and slipped his arm around my waist. He started to lead me away, and I followed him, pretending like I didn't want to. We slid behind the nearest firetruck and saw that Sam had picked the lock of the compartment that contained the gear. Looking around quickly, he tossed me a yellow jacket and a helmet, which I caught. I put the suit on over my jacket and tank top, muttering unhappily about how hot the suit was. The two brothers did the same, and Sam handed both of us a breathing apparatus before putting on his own. I took the holy water from my jacket and poured some into each of our water tanks before shoving the mostly-empty bottle back into my jacket. I zipped up my jacket and nodded to the boys, and we started to move. We walked past the fireman from earlier and entered the building,clanking loudly.

Once we reached the main hallway, Dean pulled out his EMF meter to check the doors while Sam and I followed behind him.

"You know, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up," Dean commented.

"You never told me that," Sam said, and I shook my head.

"Me neither."

Suddenly, Dean's EMF meter started going berserk, and we all went silent. He raised his eyebrows and jerked his head towards the nearest door, and Sam stood beside him and knocked.

"This is the fire department- we need to you to evacuate," Dean demanded, and I got my hose ready. Someone unlocked the door, and Dean pushed his way inside. As soon as I saw a man and a woman inside, and I sprayed them with holy water. They screamed and steam rose off of them, but before they could retaliate, Dean punched the man and shoved him into a closet. Sam grabbed the woman from where she had fallen onto the table and threw her in the closet as well, and Dean leaned against the door to keep it shut. Sam pulled a canister of salt from his duffle bag and poured a line in front of the closet, effectively trapping the demons inside.

"Well, that was easy," I said, starting to take off all the gear. The boys did the same, and once we were all back to our normal outfits, we ran to open the nearest door.

I entered the room first, and, seeing John tied to the bed, ran over to him. I held my hand in front of his nose, and as soon as I felt that he was still breathing, I turned to the boys and nodded. Sam looked relieved, and Dean ran over and started shaking him.

"Dad, wake up. Dad!"

He pulled out a knife and was about to cut the restraints around John's wrists, but stopped when Sam spoke up.

"Wait, wait! He could be possessed for all we know," Sam said urgently, and Dean looked at him like he was insane.

"Give me a sec," I interjected, and pulled the bottle of holy water from my jacket. I sprinkled some on John, and nothing happened. We all took a breath of relief, and then John started to come around.

"Ella? Why are you splashing water on me?" he said groggily, and Dean leaned over to look him in the eyes.

"Dad, are you okay?"

"They've been drugging me," he replied as I pulled my knife from my boot and started to cut him loose. "Where's the Colt?"

"Don't worry, Dad. It's safe," Sam answered as John reached up to rub his eyes.

"Good," he said, and we helped him sit up. Sam and Dean helped him to stand, and we made our way to the door. Just as I was about to open the door, a man threw it open and rushed into the room, a fireman following closely behind.

"Go! GO!" Sam yelled, and shoved me towards the bedroom door. I stumbled, but caught myself, and ran into the bedroom with Dean and John hot on my heels. We slammed the door and locked it, and I grabbed some of the salt back from my jacket and made a line in front of the doorframe. I had just finished the line when an axe chopped through the door, and I jumped back and ran towards the fire escape. Dean and John were already out there, and I looked back at Sa.

"Let's go!" I yelled, and he tossed me the duffle bag before climbing through the window. I handed him the salt, and he ran it along the windowsill as I scrambled down the ladder.I reached the bottom and ran over to Dean and John just as Sam jumped down from the ladder.

Suddenly, a man attacked him from the side, throwing him to the ground.

"SAM!" I yelled, and rushed over to where he was pinned to the street. I kicked the man sharply in the face, but instead of collapsing, he looked up at me and grinned. I was thrown into a nearby car, shattering the windows, and fell to the ground. I saw Dean rush over to them and pull a gun from his pocket, and he shot the man in the head.

"What is he doing?" I groaned, and got to my feet just in time to see the man fall to the ground, unmoving. I rushed over to Dean, and he reached out to make sure I was okay. I nodded, and then noticed that he was holding the Colt.

"What the fu-" I started, but Dean shot me a sharp glare before helping Sam to his feet.

"Come on. We got to get out of here," he said urgently, and we ran over to John. Sam and Dean picked him up and started moving as fast as they could towards the car, and I followed close behind. The boys helped John into the backseat and I climbed in after him, slamming the door behind me. Sam and Dean got in the car, and we peeled away from the curb, tires screeching.

We drove for a while before we saw a cabin by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, and we decided to hole up there. Dean and I helped John into the cabin and got him settled on one of the beds before we went back out to the main room. Sam was pouring salt alone a nearby windowsill, but turned to us as soon as he heard the bedroom door close.

"How is he?"

"He just needs a little rest, that's all," Dean responded, and I looked at him more closely. He looked terrible- his lip was caked with dried blood and his cheek was starting to turn a rather unpleasant shade of purple.

"Sam,are you okay?" I asked gently, and he managed to smile weakly at me, taking a deep breath.

"I'll survive." He paused for a moment and shook his head, looking over at Dean with worry in his eyes.

"You don't think we were followed here, do you?"

"I don't know. I don't think so- I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up," Dean replied, and Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"Hey, uh… guys, you… you saved my life back there," he said slowly, and Dean grinned smugly.

"So I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" he asked, and Sam rolled his eyes at as I reached over and smacked Dean's arm.

"Jackass!" I scolded, and he pretended like I had mortally wounded him before turning back to Sam.

"You're welcome."

Sam walked across the room and turned his back to us, and I flopped into a nearby chair and pushed my bangs out of my eyes. Dean stayed where he was, leaning on the table next to him. We sat in silence for a moment before Dean turned to Sam, his eyes downcast.

"Guys?"

"Yeah?" Sam replied, turning to face him. I looked up at Dean, and was startled by the emotion on his face.

"Dean, what is it?"

"That guy I shot? There was a person in there," he said slowly, and I got up from my chair and walked over to him.

"Dean, you did what you had to do," I said gently, but he shook his head and set his jaw.

"Yeah, I know. That's not what bothers me."

"Then what does?" Sam chimed in, looking at Dean with concern.

"Killing that guy, killing Meg… I didn't hesitate- didn't even flinch. For you or Ella or Dad… The things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh… it scares me sometimes."

Sam and I were silent, not really knowing what to say. I knew what he meant- I would do the same for them any day. They were the only family I had ever known, and I loved them all in different ways- my life wouldn't be the same without them. It scared me too. Just how far was I willing to go to save them?

John came into the room, and I pulled myself away from my thoughts and looked over at him.

"It shouldn't. You did good," he said, and Dean looked at him in shock.

"You're not mad?"

"For what?" John asked, and I looked over at him in confusion.

"Using a bullet," Dean replied, and John shook his head.

"Mad? I'm proud of you," John declared, and I looked over at Sam in shock. I couldn't remember the last time John said he was proud of Dean, let alone any of us.

"You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you- you watch out for this family. You always have," John continued, and I frowned. Something wasn't right. I was about to say something when the wind picked up outside, and the lights began to flicker. We all went over to the window and looked outside, and John turned to us with a somber expression on his face.

"It found us. It''s here."

"The demon?" I asked frantically, and John nodded. I swore under my breath (well, I thought I did), and John glanced over at me before turning to Sam.

"Sam- lines of salt in front of every window, every door."

"I already did it," Sam responded, and I saw John frown.

"Well, check it, okay?"

Sam nodded and left the room, and I looked at John skeptically. Now I knew something really wasn't right- the last time I swore in front of John, I thought he was going to take me out. I turned to Dean, but before I could say something, John spoke up.

"Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, not seeing the look I was giving him.

"Give it to me."

Dean took the Colt from his jeans, shaking his head.

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation- it disappeared."

"This is me- I won't miss. Now, the gun- hurry," John urged, and I walked over to Dean.

"Don't," I said quietly, and I saw Dean hesitate. He looked down at me like I was insane, but when he saw the look I was giving him, he froze, and understanding dawned on his face.

"Son, please."

Dean pulled me behind him and started to back away, and John looked at us in confusion.

"Give me the gun. What are you doing?"

"He'd be furious," Dean said, making sure I was safely hidden behind him.

"What?" John said, and I looked at him and narrowed my eyes.

"That Dean wasted a bullet," I growled, and reached for the knife I had strapped to my wrist.

"He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one," Dean said sharply, and he raised the gun. He pointed it at John and cocked it, and we both glared in "John's" direction.

"You're not my dad."


End file.
